Dethklok Didn't Happen in a Day
by Toejones
Summary: Pre- TV-show.  Dethklok took years to build up to super-star status. The boys had other bands, had relationships, and had to get through a lot. Starts four years after Snakes N' Barrels break up, in 1996 ends in 2006. Slash, mostly implied.
1. Year One Begins

Pt 1

It was cold, it was Monday, and it was _really_ fucking dark. The night sky was so thickly covered in smog, he couldn't even see more than ten feet down the street; it had no streetlamps, there was no starlight. The craggy building towered a full two stories above him. He could see the individual cracks, even from across the street in near pitch-black. This was a place where lowlifes and drug addicts thrived. This is exactly why Nathan Explosion stood in one of the seediest parts of Los Angeles outside a run-down motel. He was here for a drug addict and he was saving him from a lowlife. All of this had to happen on _Monday_: the day after _Sunday_. The days Nathan Explosion usually had reserved for his regularly scheduled hangovers.

Regardless of the bad timing, he had to go in and get his friend, no matter how much he didn't want to deal with this. "It's your best friend" he whispered to himself in the soft voice he only used when no one was around. Feeling almost a little bit better about what he was about to do, he uncrossed his arms and took a tentative step forward. He sucked in a deep breath to follow up his personal pep talk and finished the stretch from the street to the door in a few quick strides. He grasped the rusty doorknob tightly, knowing it would be unlocked. He could already hear breaking glass and the tell-tale thuds of a fight. With a last glance at the weathered room number, his better half pulled his lesser through the door, quietly closing the door behind him.

As soon as he made his second step into the motel room, a glass bottle (still halfway full with liquid) shattered over his head in a bright array of green hues, the sparkling glass tinkling to the floor and into his stringy black hair.

"It was none of your business! Man, you just can't keep to yourself, CAN you?" the shouting was now distinct and he recognized the voice. "You aint worth nothin'. Ya can't even sing anymore and the band is done for. It has been for four years now!" the lowlife shouted, resorting to petty insults in what Nathan idly thought to be desperation. Nathan walked slowly towards the noise, his boots crushing up glass and sending puffs of white powder spiraling into the air.

"Ya don' mean that, T" came the hushed reply "Ya always tell me ya like my voice. Ya know especially when-" he was cut off.

"Ever heard of a LIE?" every word was on the verge of a helpless whine and a snarl of fury. He almost felt bad for the lowlife. It was apparent he hadn't wanted this. Nathan knew just how much the lowlife would be losing on this level of the Game of Life.

Something else shattered, most likely the mirror. The sharp echo reminded him of just how damn hung-over he was. Cursing life and wishing to be anywhere else, he trudged on through the drug-laden, booze filled, hell-hole of a battlefield. The headboard on the king sized bed was splintered beyond repair. The painting on the wall had been tossed through the television screen. The pillows had been reduced to piles of feathers on the floor, the spilling bottles of who-knows-what saturating them until they melted into the ugly shag carpet (the like found in your grandmother's house form the early 70's). There was a little bit of blood on the glass lying directly in front of the bathroom door. Nathan avoided looking into the bathroom for a minute longer, still debating if anything needed to be done.

"Tony, man, come ahn" the voice was almost pleading now "We can fix this, I'm sahrry! You can do whatever ya want, hahnest! I won't bahther ya about nothing ever again, dude!" Nathan caught a flash of red hair in the last mirror standing- the one across from the bathroom.

"You always say that" Tony snorted.

"Tony…Tony just stay wit' me. I prahmise I'm done buggin ya, just keep me around n' we can be happy again…" it hurt Nathan in a worse way than he'd ever admit to hear his single most bad-ass friend begging like that.

"It's too late for that, Red. Too fucking late" Nathan's heart almost snapped with the drug addict's. He decided something needed to be done, if only for revenge.

"HEY" Nathan's hulking form blocked the bathroom doorway. A menacing scowl was plastered onto his face as he stared deep into Tony's eyes "What's goin' on in here" his low voice passed a well-concealed shiver of fear through Tony.

"Nate, ya didn' hafta come here" Nathan turned his attention to his friend. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, pieces of broken glass and various drugs scattered around him. Blood was running from cuts on his hands, and he had a newly smashed black eye.

"I _asked_ what's goin' on here" Nathan took a purposeful step into the already crowded motel bathroom, his face inches from the brim of Tony's top hat. Any indecisiveness or hesitance he'd had before had burned in the fire of his fury.

"Nothing" Tony answered "Nothing. At. All" he sneered directly into Nathan's face.

"Then, my pal Pickles and I will be on our way now"

"Nate, dat aint necessary" Pickles began to argue before Nathan grabbed his arm and hauled him up, the force causing Pickles to stumble awkwardly into the toilet. Tony was in the corner, staring intently at Pickles from under the brim of his hat.

"It is" Nathan replied in a low growl. He needed to get Pickles out of here, and he needed to keep him away.

"I really aughtta stay! There's a chance I can make this right, Nate" Pickles yanked his arm from Nathan's grasp and started to back further into the bathroom. Nathan's lip curled.

"_Pickles_, I have no fucking idea what the _fuck_ you're talking about, but I swear to _God_, if you don't get your fucking ass out of here I will carry you out" he advanced on his friend, pushing Tony aside "Alive" he leaned into Pickles' face "Or" he grabbed the front of his tattered old tank top "Not"

"Nate, ya don' understand" Pickles whispered, trying to pry Nathan's huge hands off his shirt.

"That's it" Nathan's voice grew in volume. He employed his well-practiced football repertoire and hoisted Pickles over his shoulder roughly.

"If Pickles leaves, he should stay gone" Tony spoke up, his voice strained "I don't ever wanna see your fuckin' face again" Tony was now staring deeply into Pickles' eyes, a message they could only understand passing between them. Nathan started to walk forward, leaving Tony in the apartment he'd most likely have to pay for in full. Nathan hoped there was interest tacked on.

"Nate!" Pickles pounded on his back "Put me DOWN, ya hear me? Tony, ahm sahry!" he started to beat Nathan's back as hard as his scrawny arms could muster. Nathan simply grunted. "NATHAN" Pickles shouted "PUT ME DOWN"

"S'fer yer own good" Nathan muttered. He was secretly pained to have to drag Pickles away from this, away from what had been his family for the last five years.

"It… it can't be over. Da band was my life… HE was my life… He's all I gaht anymore, Nate" Pickles whispered the first part to himself. As they exited the apartment and emerged onto the street Pickle's breathing picked up speed as he tried in vain to pound Nathan off of him. Nathan allowed his expression to soften to that of friendly concern as his friend's struggle became weaker and weaker.

"Hey, man" Nathan stopped, now halfway down the pitch-black street "You got _me_ now, alright?" he gently set Pickles down, tensing to catch him if he tried to go back. He didn't. He only stared down at his gaudy red cowboy boots with a miserable look on his face.

"Nate, ya gahtta try n understahd" Pickles looked up into his eyes and Nathan barely caught a small tear rolling down his face in the darkness. He reminded himself to flat-out forget it ever fell. "I love ya, man, but you aint gonna replace Tony. Ya aint gonna replace him, naht ever" his tone was both cold and loving at the same time.

"I know man" was all Nathan said as they continued off towards the bus station "But I can try" he slung an arm around Pickles' shoulder and led him on. "Now c'mon, Skwisgaar says he's got a surprise for us"

* * *

The worst part of LA whizzed by the bus window, reminding Skwisgaar how poor he really was. Abandoned gas stations covered in graffiti, boarded up corner stores (Skwisgaar could identify what drug was sold out of each), small children without coats wandering by themselves, and druggies tripping and running through the alley ways. But there were no homeless people. You knew you lived in a crappy area of LA if even the homeless knew there was nothing to beg for or steal. He was already in an awful mood (as usual), but the almost-snowy weather, the bus having no heating system at all, the fact that he only had skinny jeans and a torn up Metallica t-shirt, and now the agonizingly slow stop of the loud bus combined with the slap-in-the-face that was his neighborhood made him want to kill something. And he almost did.

"_Skwisgaar… you're going to snap your guitar neck in half"_ came the nervous whisper from the window seat immediately next to him. He loosened his grip on his beloved Explorer and took a deep breath. He locked his blue eyes with the icy grey ones looking up at him.

"_Thanks for that, Toki. I'm just missing Sweden already. It'll pass. Now grab your stuffed animal-thing and your bag, this is our stop_"

"_Okay_" Toki nodded, collecting the directed items. The bus was finally at a complete stop and Skwisgaar grabbed his own bag and his guitar before helping Toki up. They hurried down the isle, Skwisgaar trying to ignore the piteous or disgusted glares he could feel boring into the back of his head.

"_Well, this is our neighborhood_" Skwisgaar sighed "_You live here now. How does it feel_?"

"_Better than Norway_" Toki's blatant recognition of his previous situation was like a slap in the face for Skwisgaar. Having no response, Skwisgaar led the way down the road, being sure to hide Toki's bear. That thing was like a beacon screaming "Come mug us! We won't put up a fight; it's obvious we have no balls!"

After a very long while Skwisgaar started realizing that they'd gotten off one stop too early. It was almost a mile to their apartment. He grumbled nonsensically to himself in irritation.

"_Skwisgaar… have you ever wanted to… you know… die_?" the small differences between Swedish and Norwegian took about thirty seconds to process mostly because Skwisgaar couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Um…" he was lost for words. How do you answer that kind of question? Especially to a 16-year-old kid you just (technically) kidnapped from an abusive family and brought to the US illegally on the promise of (semi-) happier days? Not to mention that neither of them spoke very good English (or at all in Toki's case). It was a pretty shit situation, for sure. He could tell the truth, and crush the kid's hope at a nice life completely and right off the bat…or he could lie and have the kid find out later, losing trust forever.

"_That's a pretty serious question_" Skwisgaar equivocated.

"_Yeah, I know. Just forget I said anything_" Toki's smile seemed forced.

"_Alright then_" Skwisgaar nodded, thankful that he'd dodged that bullet. He pushed Toki along anxiously, their apartment complex's neon sign coming into view about a quarter mile down the road. "_Are you ready to meet your new housemates_?" Toki shook his head no.


	2. Chapter 2

"NO" Nathan screamed, throwing a beer bottle ten feet across the room. Pieces of shrapnel from the impact coated both Skwisgaar and Toki completely. Toki let out a small noise and tucked himself safely behind Skwisgaar's tall frame.

"And why nots, Nat'ans?" Skwisgaar shouted back, placing a hand on Toki's arm for a second.

"You REALLY have to ask me that?" Nathan started to pull at his hair.

"Ja! Ja I do, cuz I owns a five-piece of de apart-meats ands if I wants a Tokis in my five-piece den I should gets a Tokis in my five-piece!"

"Well I own a fifth of the apartment too, but I don't bring in dumb-ass kids whenever I want! Look at him, Skwisgaar! His hair is a rat's nest and he's got dirt all over him! Where'd you get him from, the _Homeless shelter_? Not to mention wherever the Hell he came from, you fucking _kidnapped_ him!" Nathan roared, starting to pace impatiently. Skwisgaar pursed his lips.

"Nej. I gots him froms da Scans-da-nay-via! I knows him since I were …I were…" Skwisgaar held up ten fingers, then six. "Sixes and tens!"

"Oh so he's _illegal_ too! I don't care if he's your fucking _girlfriend_, he can't stay!" Pickles' eyes followed Nathan from the couch, the repetition slowly lulling him to a trance. He shook his head. Too much in one night. Too damn much.

"Uh… Nate?" Pickles cleared his throat. Nathan's attention was immediately set on Pickles.

"What's wrong Pickles?" he asked, bright eyes scanning for anything wrong. Pickles almost felt touched, but was too toasted and too fed up.

"Stahp the damn fightin'. We're all fuckin' rejects too. The kid aint gaht no family besides Skwisgahr now" Nathan froze in his pacing, eyes locked into Pickles'. He understood now.

"You got sympathy?" Nathan asked quietly.

"Empathy" Pickles corrected "And a fucking lot of it, too" he sent his iciest glare directly into Nathan's eyes. Nathan broke the eye contact sharply.

"Fine Skwisgaar, the kid can stay, but he sleeps on the couch and leaves me alone" he grumbled "I'm going to bed. Pickles, you coming?" he asked. Pickles shrugged.

"I am pretty tired, ya know" he forced his pot-filled body up off the couch and drug his feet into his and Nathan's bedroom.

"_Skwisgaar… what was that about_?" Toki asked as soon as he was sure both Pickles and Nathan were gone. Skwisgaar shook his head in anger at Nathan, thankfulness for Pickles, and a certain not-quite-sadness for Toki.

"_Nothing, Toki. Just ignore them. Are you tired_?"

"_Yeah, I'm kind of sleepy. Why are the red-head and the scary guy sleeping in the same room_?"

"_Pickles and Nathan sleep together because we can only afford a two bedroom apartment. We have two big beds and one little one_"

"_Am I sleeping on the couch_?" Toki eyed the filthy sofa like it held evil itself.

"_Yeah, but hey. At least you won't have any chores in the morning and no one will try to… Anyway. Good night Toki_" Skwisgaar wandered off to his room, leaving Toki by himself.

Hamilton was awake in their bed, his bedside lamp turned on to the dim setting. The mattress at the foot of their bed stayed empty, waiting for Murderface to fill it. But who knew where he was?

"What were you, TNT, and Dill arguin about now, Twiggy?" Hamilton asked. Skwisgaar rolled his eyes.

"Stops callink me Twigsie. I am nots dat skinny. And it was notinks, you will be seesing yesterday"

"Says the hundred and fifteen pound giant to the hundred and fifty pound 6'0" guy. It's tomorrow, by the way"

"Am nots havink time to be thinksing about your dildoes Amerry-canes measures" Skwisgaar grumbled, pulling off his shirt and jeans. Hamilton whistled and threw a penny from the nightstand at him. Skwisgaar would have snarled if he wasn't so tired.

"Welcome back to Amerry-Cane" Hamilton added, teasing "Wanna tell me about your trip?" Skwisgaar rolled his eyes and flopped down on top of the sheets.

"Pfffft. Be going sleeps-time now, Hammelinktons" he pulled the thin blanket over himself and assumed his position as far away from Hamilton as possible.

* * *

A/N  
And so ends the second chapter. Since their was no Author's Note in the first chapter, I'll explain things here.

I know their accents are terrible. Skwisgaar's English is worse than it is in the show, because he recently came to America, of course. He didn't learn English in a day, and neither did Toki.  
This is written for on of my best friends, (.) because we both hate the fact that there is absolutely no back-story for our boys. Please comment on what you think about it. Thsi is actually my first Metalocalypse fanfic, and it will most likely be the only one I will ever write. It will be fairly long, it spans over ten years and the chapters are generally about 2,000 words.

Thank you in advance for reviews, story alerts, etc


	3. Chapter 3

The apartment was depressing as fuck. The roof leaked, the neighbors were (literally) non-existent (therefore impossible to terrorize), there were spider webs and dead things in every corner, rotting food littered the floor of all three rooms and the bathroom, there were abandoned panties and other unmentionable items associated with intimacy draped over the furniture, unused and used syringes were scattered on the tables along with whatever was supposed to fill them, a thin coating of what was probably cocaine dusted ever surface, and the thick layer of hard-core body odor was starting to eat holes in the fabric of everything.

Plus there was the overwhelming cloud of chaos that Nathan Explosion worrying was sure to bring (as apocalyptically rare occurrences often brought) hanging over the entire building. But anyone would be worried when someone hadn't left _that_ apartment in over three weeks.

"Hey, man" Nathan swung himself over the side of the ugly suede couch (15 bucks in their friend Craig's garage sale. It was used in a porn film once- that's why it was so expensive) to sit next to Pickles. Pickles held his head in his hands, a bottle of a nameless substance he had found out how to mix (cheap wine and various opiates) and an empty syringe clutched in his hands "You… okay?" he knew the answer, but felt the need to ask.

"You know da answer ta dat, Nate" Pickles mumbled "I ahm _naht _okey. Ahm naht blamin' you, but when you started yellin at da kid, my hopes in life jus'… kina…" he made a diving motion with his hands.

"_Please_ don't be crying" Nathan muttered under his breath, reaching out to grab Pickles' wrists. He pulled them away from his face softly "You know I'm sorry for that. I uh…have my issues, too. And, Dude? Tony was a bastard, just forget about him. And Sammy and Bullets? They didn't even have the guts to stick around as long as you did."

"Ya have a point" Pickles agreed, tossing the syringe on the table and taking a few gulps out of the bottle.

"So what do ya say we go out to a strip club with Murderface and Hamilton?" Nathan elbowed Pickles playfully.

"I dunno, man. I'm pretty, uh, messed up, I dunno if I can even geht up" Pickles looked off to the side, running a hand through his hair.

"Bullshit" Nathan snorted "That gear's been empty for hours, you dick"

"A'right, ya caught me….To tell da truth, Nate… I jus'… I jus' don't much feel like goin anywhere tonight" Pickles sighed, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. His high was wearing off way too fast and he might as well have been immune to the booze. Nathan nodded, understanding.

"Dude, you gotta get out some time. It's been almost a month, man. You need a lap-dance and proper conversation. A good fuck wouldn't do any harm either" he grinned his devilish grin and slapped Pickles on the back.

"I jus'… I jus'… I'm real torn up about dis, man. I knew it'd happen sahmetime, but…" he rested his head in his hands again "Gahd, I jus' I dunno what I'm gonna do"

"Well for starters, you could go out and take your mind off things" Nathan stood, bringing Pickles with him.

"Fahine" Pickles agreed grudgingly "But I aint gonna have fun, gaht it?"

"Whatever ya say, man" Nathan shook his head with a chuckle.

"Good. So is Skwisgaar comin'?" Pickles leaned back until his spine popped and headed towards the door. Nathan shook his head.

"He's out with that kid, getting him some new clothes and, uhhh… food or somethin. I really… I really hate that kid" he replied.

"De kid idn' half bad" Pickles disagreed, grabbing his wallet off the bar in the kitchen area "I kinda like im, ta be hahnest. Reminds me of dis foreign girl we had in ahr fifth grade class"

"The way I see it, he isn't capable of anything at all. He's just taking up space and beer money" Nathan said.

"Ya sound like yer old man" Pickles warned darkly "Nothin good ever comes outta callin sahmeone good fer nothin'. Jus' look at me" his laugh was humorless.

"I , uh, guess you're right" Nathan agreed "Now I feel like a total dick"

"Dun be hard on yerself. This whole mess wit Tony's just like what happen' with my dad and me…. Just a little less… ehh… parental, I guess. Anyway, my point is dat you inherit even the crap you don't want from yer folks. It's life" Pickles ran a hand through his hair.

"You need to stop being insightful, it's scary" Nathan teased, locking the front door behind him (not that there was anything to steal). They started walking off in the direction of the strip club.

The crisp winter air ghosted its fingers down their spines as they walked, and Pickles wished he had something more than his low-rise jeans and a torn up tank top that just about wasn't there. Nathan seemed to sense this, and picked up his pace.

As they walked through the streets of LA, Pickles made it his business to start pointing out good places to get weed and coke, and other various places Nathan should know about. It was his city after all, and Nathan and his friends were Pickles' guests until they were permanently moved in.

"Is dis da strip club dey said dey'd meet us at?" Pickles stopped in front of an out-of-place gentlemen's club. It was a full two stories and wasn't even beginning to rot. Nathan nodded, impervious to Pickles' skeptic looks.

"Yeah. They said the girls are real … uhhh…classy. Their bits aren't fallin' off or nothing" he shoved open the glittering red doors roughly, exposing a scene Pickles was new to. There were girl everywhere- of course there were, it was a strip club- but they weren't the kind of girls Pickles usually had. They looked like they didn't have any STDs, they smelled like sweet perfume, and they were under 35. But that didn't mean they had clothes.

"Hot damn" Pickles muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"If you keep petting your fucking head like that, you're gonna go bald" Nathan joked, leading Pickles off to a booth where their rhythm guitarist and bassist sat. There were also two girls there.

"Dill, man, what's up with your face… and hair?" M. Hamilton, the rhythm guitarist, asked, trying to get a clearer view of his friends from behind a skinny bleach-blonde girl. Pickles cocked an eyebrow before looking into the mirror behind Hamilton. His eyes were blood-shot and his eyeliner he hadn't bothered taking off was running all over the place. Plus his normally wild, tall hair was flat as a pancake, hanging natural and greasy around his face. He wasn't even wearing a bandanna. He ran his thumbs around his eyes, smearing off most of his makeup and took a seat next to Murderface.

"I've had a lahng week, bro" was the only thing he replied with. He patted the seat next to him and Nathan took it, leaning back and ordering a beer from a passing waitress. The shiny red leather squeaked as Pickles shifted uncomfortably.

"Long enough to ignore my nickname for you even" Hamilton noted. Pickles ignored him.

"Dis is a classy joint, dudes" he pointed out "I'm used ta dem places wit the fat chicks covered in Band-Aids and hideous tattoos". Murderface, Hamilton, and Nathan all burst into laughter.

"Well there aint none of that shtuff in here" Murderface grinned, looking into the boobs in his face "all very classshhy ladiesh"

"Don't you want a girl?" Nathan asked Pickles, noticing a couple coming their way.

"No, man. I told ya I won't have any fun tonight. And when you don't have fun you make the girls feel bad about themselves, n who wants dat?" he shook his head and acted like he was going to go to sleep on the table.

"Howdy there, Tall, Dark, and Haaaandsommme" a cute blonde girl with freckles absolutely sprinted up to Nathan, plopping herself down comfortably "My names Jenny" she added.

"Well Hoooow-dee, Jeeny" Nathan answered happily, eyes scanning her up and down. Pickles just buried himself further into his own world.

"Hey there, Red" a sultry voice positively curled into Pickles' ear, forcing him out of his reverie. He sat bolt upright, his eyes locking into a set of heavily made-up ones.

"What'd ya call me?" he asked, his eyes scanning down her perfect frame. Her long black hair smelled like strawberries.

"I called you Red. Your hair is red" she explained, leaning on the table.

"Well dun call me dat please. I'm naht having such a great time, and I jus' wanna be left alone. It's nothin' personal" he said. She looked a little dejected.

"Well alright then, sweetheart. I'll be over at the bar if you want me after all"

"I wont" he scoffed when she was out of earshot.

"No Tokis, dis ams not good clothinks" Skwisgaar snatched the shirt out of Toki's hands. Toki looked questioningly at Skwisgaar, then at the shirt.

"Where ams it being not de goods boat?" he asked, completely oblivious to the looks he got from the other, _American_, Target shoppers. They were speaking English so that Toki could learn, but Skwisgaar's English wasn't great either, and the communication was very fuzzy.

"Ummm… it ams not beink de good clothingks becloose it ams being have a collars" Skwisgaar gestured to the color of the polo shirt Toki had picked.

"Percents say it be good to having collar on dem"

"Pfffft. You ams meanink parents, dildo" Skwisgaar rolled his eyes and put the shirt Toki had picked up back on the rack. He was lucky Toki even picked something that wasn't girl's clothes.

"Den ams be wear it den when I haves?" Toki garbled, fumbling over his consonants.

"Whats…?" Skwisgaar gave him a look of absolute incredulity.

"_Then what counts as a good piece of clothing_?" Toki asked, this time in Norwegian.

"_This is a good one_" Skwisgaar, having completely given up on English, held out a black t-shirt with a simple skull on it. Only one problem: it was in children's sizes.

"_It looks a little bit small_…" Toki eyed it warily.

"_When I met you, you were in a torn up shirt sixteen sizes too big, and you're complaining_?" Skwisgaar scoffed. Toki immediately realized his mistake and a spark of fear flashed behind his eyes and he grabbed the shirt.

"_Sorry, sorry. I appreciate it_" he started walking towards the registers. Skwisgaar caught his shoulder.

"_No, I'm sorry Toki. I forget about your previous situation sometimes. Let's keep looking_" he smiled and patted Toki's shoulder. Toki winced in pain at the touch, rubbing the sore joint.

"_Okay, Skwisgaar_" he followed behind the guitarist, idly brushing his fingers along the different fabrics.


	4. Chapter 4

"What the fuck was that about?" Nathan asked Pickles as they exited the club. Pickles shot him a questioning look "I mean about her callin' you Red. Dude, you're, like, ginger. People should call you that all the time"

"Well…" Pickles seemed embarrassed "Dat was Tony's name fer me…" he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly "Gahd that's real gay, isn't it?"

"I'm not gonna lie. That's uhh… pretty gay, dude"

"Well when you say it, it jus' sounds rude" Pickles grimaced. Nathan shrugged and they continued walking in silence.

"Um… Pickles?" Nathan murmured. They were almost back to their apartment. Pickles looked up at him solemnly. "I know ya don't really want to talk about this, but about you and Tony…" he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Actually it might help to talk a bit" Pickles whispered.

"Uhh… God. Um, okay, g… good" Nathan stuttered uncharacteristically "Well I… I listened to a little of your conversation before I went into the bathroom"

"What'd ya hear?" Pickles asked nonchalantly.

"Well maybe you better tell me why you were fighting first" Nathan sighed. He was working on becoming a bad-ass front man, and he didn't even have the balls to ask his friend a simple question.

"Well Tony gaht inta some trouble wit…" Pickles glanced around "Ya know… da Mahhhb" he whispered.

"Really?" Nathan's eyebrows shot up like fireworks "That's bru… that's terrible, man" he coughed to cover up his mistake. Pickles nodded, staring down at his too-flashy boots.

"Yeah, it was awful. He came home all beat up an' I asked im what was wrahg. Well ahbviously he couldn't tell me, so he jus told me ta leave it alone" Pickles sighed "A'course I couldn't jus let someone beat up my Tony without lookin inta it"

"Pickles… you didn't…" Nathan gasped.

"I did, Nate. I did. I went snoopin' and dug up some bat-shit story I can't even remember now. Tony found out, an' awwwww man, was he pissed at me"

"Dude… the mob?" Nathan was still thunderstruck. His friend Pickles was best friends with a mob guy. This was so fucking metal; he had to write a song about it. He made a mental note to title it something like "The Mob of Fallen Angels" or something that referred to both LA and the mob. "Fucking awesome" he said out loud. Pickles shot him a nasty glare before continuing.

"And so I tell him ahm done lookin around and we're all made up n' everything… but den he comes home all beat-up agen!" Pickles was visibly infuriated by the memory "And- and I ask him what's goin on NOW and he just tells me it's nothing! I mean, GAHD" Pickles pulled at the ends of his hair "I couldn't believe the NERVE of him!"

"Uhh... yeah. Way outta line" Nathan agreed in passing, trying to calm Pickles down. He was on the verge of one of his stupid tantrums.

"So I go n' look around agen, cuz he got all beat up agen. So I needed to know. He was bein' so selfish, I cared about him and he just acted like it didn't matter!" Pickles kicked the trashcan outside their apartment angrily and stormed up the steps "Nate. Keys. Now" he demanded. Nathan tossed him the keys.

Pickles opened the door and slammed it violently, completely forgetting about Nathan. The lights all flickered pitifully and Nathan ran a hand over his face.

* * *

A/N

Bad news: really short chapter

Good news: Ahm sahhhhry! :D

Oh and P.S. : I have a serious boner for Pickles X Tony at the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

"Dude, you're fucking plastered" Pickles chuckled, running a hand through his bright hair. His friend shot him a confused, albeit icy, glare.

"Ja, well you ams de stupid being" Skwisgaar replied, leaning too far forward and crashing down off his stool. He writhed a little on the floor, trying to find 'up'.

"Man, yer English sucks even worse when yer drunk" Pickles clicked his tongue "Pretty soon ahm naht even gonna be able ta understand you"

"Your accent being am worser den my engslishes" Skwisgaar slurred back from the floor, where he seemed to have taken up a permanent residence "Varför är jag på golvet?..." he muttered. Pickles shot him an amused look from his perch.

"Dude, now ya aint even speakin English"

"Ja I ams being …talar engelska" Skwisgaar's eyes fluttered feebly. Pickles rolled his eyes as he watched the guitarist pass out cold. He nudged him over with his foot so he wouldn't choke on his own puke.

"Heeeeeeyyyyyyy Nat'an?" Pickles called, turning his head to yell in the direction of the bedroom.

"BUSY" was the only reply he got. He heard a girl make some sort of noise and shook his head. Busy indeed.

"Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyy Wiiiiiill?" he tried again, directing his call at William Murderface.

"Don't call me Will" Murderface groaned from the couch "And shtop yellin, I have a shplitting headacshe" he pulled a pillow over his face, trying to block out the entire universe.

"Eeeeemmmm…?" Pickles tried one last time, actually bothering to turn his barstool around to look at the rhythm guitarist, M. Hamilton. He was shooting up something, definitely not paying attention to his friend. He wouldn't be for a while now, either.

"Alrighty den" Pickles sighed. He hated having nothing to do, because when there was nothing to do, the only thing to do was drink. Or at least that was his logic. But then he remembered something… or someone. He peeked around to the little beat-up loveseat near Skwisgaar and M's room. A sixteen year old brunette was sprawled on it, lazily humming tunes to himself. Pickles stumbled a bit getting off the barstool, but wandered over to him anyways.

"Heeeey dere, kid" Pickles waved erratically, surprising the boy. He sat up ram-rod strait in a flash, bashing his head into Pickles'.

"Ah! Jeg er så lei meg, er du skadet?" the boy rushed to speak, forgetting Pickles didn't speak Norwegian. When he noticed Pickles' confused expression he tried to correct himself "Ams you bein-ng de…ams you ebigngde de…" he stuttered, not sure of the next words.

"Ahm fahine" Pickles realized what he was asking and nodded, showing him it was okay.

"Ah… goods"

"So Toki" Pickles sat on the arm of the loveseat "Ya ever had vahhhdkaa?" he sang out the name of his favorite drink.

"Ja beings de having his vodka sometime wheres I hads it" Toki stumbled over his sentence like there were rocks in his mouth.

"Good! Here ya go kid, bahttums up" he shoved the bottle into Toki's open hand. Toki stared blankly at it. To tell the truth, he had no idea what Pickles had asked, but he knew it was a question. And he knew you should generally answer yes. But what was in his hand?

"Where… where ams?" he held up the bottle, and the confused expression explained it all to Pickles (or so he thought).

"Alrighty, kid" he took the bottle back, turned it up-side-down and chugged about half of it. He lowered it down, handing it back to Toki, gesturing for him to copy what he had just done. Toki's face lit up as he realized what Pickles wanted him to do.

"Takk, Pickle" Toki nodded in thanks before tipping the bottle exactly as Pickles had done. Pickles thumped him on the back in approval, sending rivulets of the drink down Toki's chin.

"What ams he doink?" Skwisgaar was sitting up slowly, wiping drool off his face. Pickles grinned stupidly at his friend.

"Just givin the kid a drink!" he elbowed Toki, who was having issues choking down the strong drink without being elbowed. He spluttered, sending a gulp's worth of alcohol down his shirtfront.

"He's not beink handles de alch-ee-hol good!" Skwisgaar exclaimed, fumbling to get up "Toki, sluta dricka det just nu!" Skiwsgaar added in Swedish. Toki immediately pulled the bottle out of his mouth, making a loud popping sound Pickles seemed to find absolutely hilarious.

"What's wrahhng, Skwisgaar?" Pickles chortled "De kid's gonna hang with rahckstahrs, he's gahtta get used ta it" he hiccupped and popped open a bottle of something he found laying on the floor, abandoned from another night like this one. Skwisgaar looked absolutely furious.

"You ams not being give de chilsdrens de drinks!" he shouted.

"Hell, yer only twenty!" Pickles argued "You aint got any more business drinkin' than him". This seemed to shut up Skwisgaar long enough for Pickles to chug his drink down.

"He's not be handleinks beink drunks ams well, dat ams all" Skwisgar repeated calmly "He's gets very… uhh…" he searched for the word "calms…?" he phrased it as a question.

"There aint nothing wrahng wit dat" Pickles rolled his eyes "Being all spaced out n happy when yer drunk is just how some people are" he took a swig of what he had identified as beer. Something grabbed it out of his hand. His hampered senses took a second to kick in, but he wheeled around in time to see Toki slam it like he was a fucking machine.

"Dis ams not beinks de goods" Skiwsgaar sighed "I be meansink dat he's beink crazies"

* * *

A/N

Another short one. Sorrrrryyyy

Review to tell me how I'm doin'


	6. Chapter 6

"Sos, Toki" Skwisgaar fiddled with the tall glass of water he had sitting in his lap.

"Ja?" came the muffled reply from the couch a cross from him.

"Since Hammselinktons is beink gones tonight, you wants to be sleepinks wit me insteads of on da couch?" he looked up at his oldest and youngest friend, a rare, kind expression gracing his handsome face.

"Speaksing de Sea-weedsish now" Toki demanded, rubbing his forehead. He'd gotten pretty hammered the night before, made out with some girl one of the other guys had brought home, gotten smacked for it, and he had to try and sleep on the floor because all the beds and couches had been taken up by druggies and sluts alike. Then he'd woken up at 4:00 am, only to puke up everything he'd eaten in the last eight hours. Then he started throwing up nothing. He'd gone back to sleep when everyone had left, and had just woken up at 7:00pm. He'd then spent the evening watching Pickles get drunk again and go out with Nathan to do something involving a Molotov Cocktail. He definitely didn't feel like trying to speak English today.

"Ursäkta. Jag frågade om du ville sova i min säng sedan Hammelinktons är borta ikväll." Skwisgaar repeated. Toki looked absolutely thrilled beyond belief.

"_Really? Oh thank you Skwisgaar! The couches are so uncomfortable_" he replied in Norwegian. He shot off the couch and over the coffee table, latching around Skwisgaar in a violent hug. Skwisgaar patted his back once and pushed him off.

"_Yeah, yeah. I happen to know a thing or two about sleeping on couches, so I have some sympathy for you_" Skwisgaar smirked. Toki scooted into the spot next to Skwisgaar on the couch, humming to himself happily. The silence was nice for both of them. They were really the only ones who could understand each other, and the other guys made no attempt to learn Swedish or Norwegian. In Nathan, Murderface, and Hamilton's point of view, Toki was a part of the scenery, and Skwisgaar knew enough English to get along just fine. In Pickles' defense, he had tried to learn a few words, but he was just too darn drunk all the time. He had only retained "Takk" (thank you), and "Ja" (yes), just about the easiest things I the world.

"_So why are you keeping me around, Skwisgaar? I don't think Murderface, Nathan, and Hamilton like me very much. Plus I don't really do anything_" It sounded to Skwisgaar like Toki had wanted to ask this for a long while. He thought a moment before punching Toki in the shoulder a little too hard.

"_Stop being a cry-baby! I keep you around because I've known you since I was your age, and plus…I like you, kid_" he smiled awkwardly down at Toki, who returned the gesture. They both stared for a moment longer before Toki snapped his head away to look down at his fiddling hands.

"Whatsh going on in here?" Murderface, always the awkward silence breaker, stormed into the room. By the smell and look of him, he'd been both drinking and smoking pot. He was staring intently at Skwisgaar and Toki "Whatever it ish sheems kinda gay" he stumbled into the kitchen, flinging open the old, decrepit refrigerator with way too much force. Skwisgaar winced as the eggs toppled out and split open, sending a thick yellow goop all over the floor and all over the cabinets where it would stay until someone cleaned it up (AKA forever).

"Shtupid eggs" Murderface ignored the mess he made and stomped over to the couch with his beer. Toki seemed thoroughly disgusted, so Skwisgaar sighed and made to get up.

"Is gettink to be lates" he declared to Murderface "I's be goinks to bed now, and I's taking little Tokis wit me"

"Wait… Toki'sh shleeping in your bed?" Murderface cocked an eyebrow "Thatsh pretty gay, dude"

"We alls be sharink beds, dildo. We's not affordink more den three" he rolled his eyes "Hammelinktons is just being gone tonights and Tokis sleeps on da couches"

"Whatever, Shkwishgaar. You totally have a boner for that dumb kid"

"Yous being shut up now" Skwisgaar growled, hoisting Toki to his feet.

"Hva er det du snakker om, Skwisgaar?" Toki asked, shooting a wary glare Murderface's way.

"Notinks, little Toki. Låt oss gå till sängs, är Murderface Ebing bara en åsna." Skwisgaar grabbed Toki's hand and pulled him off towards his room.

"Takk deg igjen" Toki muttered quietly, squeezing Skwisgaar's hand.

* * *

"A'rahight, last one. Last one" Pickles cackled, tossing another flaming liquor bottle over his shoulder, over the barricade they'd built out of a dumpster and cardboard boxes, and into a small, long-since-used mini-mart.

"But we got six" Nathan argued, holding up five bottles of unopened, extremely cheap liquor.

"Dats fahve, Nate. We could jus' drink um, too" Pickles pointed out.

"I… uh, I guess you're right, man" he grinned, popping the cap off one with his bare hands. He offered it to Pickles, who slopped it over himself when the Molotov Cocktail finally exploded. They drank in silence, their already drunken giggles dying off slowly.

"I jus' love blowin' shit up, Nate" Pickles sighed fondly, tossing his empty bottle off to the side.

"Yeah… uh, me too" Nathan laughed a little, finishing off his bottle. He cracked open two new ones, enjoying the smell of the burning building across the street.

"Naht dat dere's anythin' else ta do, ya know" Pickles added. Nathan only nodded. They drank these two in silence as well, leaving them with only one bottle left. They both eyed the bottle, then each other warily. Nathan gently picked it up, opened it, took a drink, and handed it to Pickles.

"Well dat's one way ta sahlve it" he shrugged, taking a gulp. When you lived like they did, germs were the least of your worries. They lapsed into silence yet again, passing the bottle between them. When the last sip sloshed around in the bottom Nathan made to hand it to his friend, but held onto it when Pickles grabbed it.

"You know that… uh, that talk we had where you got real mad?" he asked. Pickles nodded.

"Yeah, sorry bout dat"

"S'fine. Well, d'ya think we could… uh, D'ya think we could finish it? You're freakin' me out, man and I'm kinda in the dark here"

"I guess so" Pickles shrugged, releasing the bottle and leaning back against their homemade blast-shield.

"So you n' Tony had a fight about" he looked around, his eyes seeming to barely move "the mob".

"You could put it dat way" Pickles agreed.

"So that's what you meant by leavin' him alone n' shit, right?"

"Yup"

"So what'd you mean when you asked him to keep you around?"

"… We were thinkin' about puttin' SNB back together" it took an unnaturally long time for him to answer. His eyes shifted downwards, staring at his knees. Nathan knew this was the tell-tale sign of one of Pickles' lies, but didn't mention it.

"And what did you mean when you called him _your_ Tony?"

"… Nate, are you implahying somethin' here?" Pickles narrowed his eyes dangerously. Nathan's voice was a mere whisper.

"I don't know, man. Should I be?" Nathan's gaze flickered from Pickles back to the ground a few times, eventually deciding it was much safer to glare at the ground. He heard Pickles suck in a very angry breath and let it out slowly.

"Maybe we should end this cahnversation" Pickled declared, standing up "I'm goin' home" and started to walk off.

"You know, man" Nathan grumbled "I'm just trying to care, and you shrug it off and yell at me. You're being a total dick. Just like Tony was" he pulled out his lighter and began flicking it on and off, trying to distract his hands from the urge to crush something. Pickles stopped walking, and turned slowly.

"_What did you say_?"

"You heard me. And you know I'm right". Pickles was silent for a long while, standing in the middle of the street. His hair was still without hairspray or bandana, his eyes were still bloodshot, and Nathan didn't think he remembered seeing Pickles look more pathetic than he did at that moment.

Pickles didn't remember feeling much more pathetic, either. He knew he looked like crap when an angry Nathan was staring at him with worried eyes. He sighed heavily. "Nate. I'm sharry. It's a sensahtive issue"

"Yeah well if you keep pussyfooting around it, it'll be that way forever" Nathan replied gruffly.

"Fine" Pickles took two shaky deep breaths "Tony wasn't jus' my _friend_. Dere. Now can we jus' go back to de apartment?" Pickles gestured homeward.

"You mean he was like… your brother?" Nathan asked. Pickles stared him down, a deep self-hatred apparent in his green eyes.

"No, Nate. Naht like my fucking _brother_. Like… like _more_"

"Oh… _OH_!" Nathan exclaimed.

"Yeah. Now can we _please_ go home?" Pickles pleaded.

"Uh… sure…" Nathan pursed his lips and got up "Lets… uh… let's go, man" he jammed his hands deep into his pockets. Pickles looked down at his shoes awkwardly and started walking before Nathan could catch up.

* * *

A/N

Ahhhh coming out of the closet (sorta) to you best friend. Easy right? I think not.  
But you should be proud, Nathan, you handled that very well. :D


	7. Chapter 7

"What the HELL?" Skwisgaar's eyes fluttered open delicately. The light streaming through his flimsy curtains stung them and he winced. When he was able to open them all the way, an angry Hamilton stared down at him, scowling.

"Wells, goods afternoons to you toos" Skwisgaar muttered, shifting so he was on his back, staring directly up at Hamilton.

"Why is that kid in my bed?" Hamilton demanded, stomping his boot fiercely. Skwisgaar, mind muddled by sleep, turned to his right to look at Hamilton's side of the bed. Toki was curled up in a ball, his hand barely an inch from touching Skwisgaar's arm. He noticed that Toki's feet were touching his leg and gently pushed them off to the side with his knee.

"You ams was beink outs last mornings" Skwisgaar ran a hand over his face. He had two days worth of stubble, he realized with a grimace.

"So? It's still my bed, Twiggy. I want to sleep now, and there he is" Hamilton tapped his foot impatiently.

"You cans be sleepinks on my side, he ams tired guy" Skwisgaar pushed the dark blue bed-spread off and sat up, his joints popping painfully. Hamilton didn't look too pleased by this suggestion.

"He needs to get out of my bed"

"Just being let hims sleeping, Hammelinktons" Skwisgaar swung his legs off the bed "He has been havinks not-good time sleepsing on da couch"

"….Fine. Just fine. But this is a one-time thing, got it?" Hamilton kicked off his boots and climbed into bed as Skwisgaar stood up.

"Ja. Hes beink thanks you when hes being wake ups" Skwisgaar yawned and pulled on his only pair of baggy jeans, leaving his shirt on the floor to rot.

* * *

Later that same day

* * *

"Hey, Moidaface?" Skwisgaar asked, taking a drag of his last cigarette.

"What?" Murderface grunted in reply.

"How comes Pickle and Nat'ans nots being homes yet?" he flicked his ashes onto the floor. Murderface shrugged nonchalantly, throwing a dart at the many band stickers adorning their walls. Skwisgaar furrowed his eyebrows in worry. Nathan and Pickles had been gone since around 9:00 last night and it was now almost noon.

"Why, you gettin' worried?" Murderface asked. Skwisgaar nodded slightly, wishing for something stronger than nicotine. Worrying about another dude wasn't cool. "Don't worry, man. Bein' a little worried shometimesh never hurt nobody"

"If you ams said so" Skwisgaar sighed. He reclined as far as the old recliner would allow (not very far) and crossed his legs. "Dis ams why we beink needing de cellular phones"

"Thoshe big bricksh? They're not worth how heavy they are"

"I ge…gwuh… gue… think you ams maybes right"

"What's going on with TNT and Dill?" Hamilton walked out of their bedroom, his hair sticking up in odd places and in his boxers. A none-too-delicate sneer twisted up onto Skwisgaar's full lips, but he let it fall off his face as he remembered what was going on.

"Nat'ans and Pickle ams nots beink homes yet. I ams just beink da worries-wart becaloose I ams de tireds guy and too sobers" Skwisgaar muttered, running a hand over his face for what seemed like the billionth time. He still hadn't shaved.

"Oh. Alright, I'm sure they're fine. Anyway, that kid is still sleeping like a fucking baby" Hamilton pushed Murderface's feet off the couch so he could sit down. Murderface responded with a grunt and another dart into the already holey wall.

"I said he ams tired guy" Skwisgaar muttered, staring at the smoke curling up from his mouth.

"…Why exactly did you bring him to live with us? You never really said" Hamilton asked, putting his arms behind his head. Skwisgaar considered telling Hamilton the truth. But Toki's business was his business, no one else's.

"He ams a friend from whiles back. Hims parents be dead few months ago, sos I takes him under my flippers, ja?" Skwisgaar decided to lie.

"Yeah, I guess I get ya. Sad story, man"

"Ja. Ams very… sad" Skwisgaar repeated. He winced as his short cigarette burned his fingertips and tossed it off to the side. "You wants to go and be buyinks somes of dese?" Skwisgaar held up the empty pack. Hamilton shrugged.

"Sure, let's go"

* * *

Earlier that day

* * *

"Pickles…?" Nathan cleared his throat. Pickles didn't reply, just kept following the cracks in the road with his eyes. "You know, man" Nathan continued "You… It… I don't really care… I mean, I care obviously, but I mean that I don't like… mind…I guess. I mean, you're still my best pal… and… and shit" he allowed his ramblings to stop before he insulted Pickles further.

"Thanks den, I guess" Pickles replied quietly.

"Okay then… good" Nathan cleared his throat awkwardly. Their silent trek home continued on for a few minutes until Pickles sighed, almost angrily.

"Damn, dis is akward" he declared "I need a drink. Wanna go to da bar?"

"I'm pretty hammered already. Yeah. Drink it is"

They wandered around until they managed to find one. It was dinky little place neither of them had ever seen before. Like most buildings in their side of town, it was falling apart. But somehow it felt welcoming, as if it was just waiting for them. So they meandered in, almost hesitantly.

"Oh, hello" the bartender greeted them with a large smile as soon as they stepped foot into the building.

"Uh… hi" Nathan replied, cocking an eyebrow.

"I didn't think anyone but Charlie over there came in this late" the bartender, his nametag said Joe, gestured to a lonely-looking man around twenty-eight slumped over the counter with what looked like brandy in his hand. Nathan and Pickles grabbed the two seats to the left of Charlie.

"Two of da cheapest beers ya gaht, please" Pickles held up two fingers.

"Alrighty. Can I see your ID's, gentlemen?" Joe held out his hand. Pickles and Nathan shared an incredulous look.

"…what?" Nathan asked. Joe repeated himself. Nathan fished out his wallet and flipped through it. There was no ID. "I don't have one" he reported, blinking stupidly.

"I might have mine, Nate" Pickles muttered, shoving his hands into every pocket he had on his new leather jacket (picked up by Skwisgaar and Toki and Target) and his jeans. "Uhhh… nope. No wallet either. Fucking lahst it agen"

"Have we ever been ID'd before…?" Nathan asked, scratching his head.

"Once when I was fourteen. Gaht kicked outta da bar" Pickles recalled.

"At gigs didn't you get beer for, like, free?"

"Yeah, but dat was ahnstage. Snakes 'N' Barrels gaht everythin' for free"

"My band never gets beer for free" Nathan grumbled.

"Well we didn't either at first, ya jus' gahtta get rich enough dat people give ya stuff for free"

"That makes like no sense…"

"Yeah, I know. But it's awesome cuz den ya gaht money left for expensive strippers and dru-"

"Did you say you were in Snakes 'N' Barrels?" Charlie spoke up from next to Pickles. Both boys turned their heads sharply.

"Yeah. Sahrry, I don't do aughtahgraphs anymore…" Pickles returned his attention to Nathan.

"I was just wondering. I didn't recognize you. I was an assistant lawyer for you back in '87"

"Well it's 1996 now, so no wonder you don't recognize me" Pickles muttered "I'm gettin' old"

"I disagree. A man's near-thirties are a time to celebrate"

"I'm twenty-six and I feel da worst I have in my entire life" Pickles shook his head "And Snakes 'N' Barrels died four years ago"

"Have you thought of forming a new band?" Charlie asked keenly, finishing off his brandy.

"No. Have you ever thought of mindin' your own damn business?"

"I'm terribly sorry, I was just wondering. I'm looking for work, you see, and I'm a pretty big band manager. I just finished managing Financially Raped"

"Dat was Skiwsgahrs old bahnd" Pickles raised his eyebrows, obviously impressed.

"Weren't they, like, really big in Germany?" Nathan asked.

"Yes. Yes they were" Charlie replied "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name"

"Nathan. Nathan Explosion. I'm in Cyanide Spring Break" he shook Charlie's outstretched hand "Your name's Charlie, right?"

"Charles Ofdensen" Charles corrected.

"Nice ta re-meet ya, Charles Afdensahn" Pickles also shook his hand.

"So what's a big label manager guy like you doin' in a bar on the wrong side of LA?" Nathan asked.

"Well, that matter is very personal" Charles cleared his throat.

"Ya gaht dumped" Pickles nodded "So did I"

"If only for the record, I never said that… but yes. My wife left me and took our baby girl"

"That's brutal, man" Nathan nodded sympathetically.

"Seems like all I get is the dumped ones anymore" Joe the bartender came back with two cheap beers, still in the bottles "Here ya are, kids"

"So Charles, how cheap do you work?" Nathan asked enthusiastically. Cyanide Spring Break didn't have a manager and it showed in their attendance and financial records.

"Depends on how good you are" Charles replied, signaling Joe for another brandy.

"Well, Nate, you might wanna tell 'im about all da other bands in ahr apartment before you ask 'im ta manage CSB. Da other guys might be jealous" Pickled chuckled, knowing full-well the other bands didn't have managers either.

"Good point. We got Will and Hamilton from Late Night Homicide and we got Skwisgaar, who you know, from Smugly Dismissed, and we got me from Cyanide Spring break. Pickles here helps us all out sometimes when one of our band members is missing, he's pretty good at drums too. Then we got this dumb kid from Norway who can't even speak English. I have no idea what he does."

"I can sing n' play guitar too" Pickles reminded him, already draining his beer.

"He knows that, you ass" Nathan rolled his eyes.

"So I see you have a lot of different people living in your house. That isn't good for band dynamics; usually you have one band living together. It improves team work and reduces scheduling conflicts. Not to mention the finances are easier to sort out. Perhaps you could all form a singular band, I take it you all have different rolls?"

"Well yeah. I'm a singer, Will's a bassist, Hamilton plays rhythm guitar, and you know Pickles and Skwisgaar"

"I'd like you to try and get together if possible and do a collaboration project. You can tell your bands anything you'd like to get out of any prior engagements. I can be by any time next week to hear you perform"

"Dat actually sounds like a good idea" Pickles nodded "I'll be you guys' drummer, I guess"

"Alright. Now before I come by, I need to assess your financial situation in general" Charles pulled out a notebook and a calculator. Nathan and Pickles eyed it, thoroughly frightened. They hated numbers.

"Well dis is gonna be a long night" Pickles whispered to Nathan. Nathan nodded, still staring warily at the chart Charles was drawing. But at least Pickles' mind was off Tony.

* * *

A/N

IFf this got sent to your email twice, I'm sorry. There was a mistake with my chapter thing :P

And another update. I just started on year two, so be expecting a lot more soon :3 I'm really enjoying writing this. I loved coming up with their band names and friends. Let me know what you think and If I've missed something in the show that I accidentally rewrote (this is true for all chapters)  
How do you think it's going to turn out? They met their future manager, but I still have 9 years left to write about.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh, so nows you comesing to de house-home" Skwisgaar addressed a very sleepy Pickles and Nathan, both of whom had just trudged in through the front door.

"Yeah. Long night. All of you tell your bands that you're taking a week off. We got work to do"

"De day you get these lazy douche-bags to do anythin' invahlvin' work is da day I stahp drinkin' and doin' coke" Pickles grumbled, thoroughly hung-over and very angry with the world.

"What kind of work you talking about, TNT?" Hamilton asked, shoving something in the crappy microwave for an early dinner.

"I'll tell you when I wake up" Nathan grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck "I'm hittin' the hay"

"I could do with a roll in the hay" Murderface spoke up, only his feet visible on the armrest of the sofa.

"Shut up, you fucker" Nathan made sure to tip over the couch as he walked by and into his room.

"G'night, guys" Pickles waved sleepily and trudged in after Nathan.

"Tokis, dis ams whats you call beink hangsing-over" Skwisgaar explained to an eager Toki sitting at his feet.

"Hangings-over" Toki repeated "Ams dat whered you ams de big drinkinger fishes ands you some-tee-mims much too much of dis?" he asked. Skwisgaar tried to figure out Toki's garbled sentence to no avail. During their trek for cigarettes Hamilton and Murderface had insisted that Skwisgaar teach 'the kid' some 'mother-fucking English' so he could be somewhat useful. He'd almost insulted the gun-wielding store owner by calling him a "Dildo". It had taken some explaining, but they got out with their cigarettes and in one piece.

"Ams when you be doink too much of de drinkings of de alch-ee-holes ands you ams wakingks up in a nots-so-good mood"

"Likes me de odder times earliers just now weeks of last, ja?"

"Ja, little Tokis!" Skwisgaar was thrilled at how well the last sentence had come out.

"Don't get all hot-n'-bothered, Twiggy, he just said one thing sorta understandable" Hamilton walked over with a half-thawed frozen pizza.

"Shutsink ups" Skwisgaar shot back.

"Sorry I only take orders from my parents and people who could beat me up. Seeing as you're not either of those things, _you_ shut up"

"Pffffffffft. You ams such de dildos" Skwisgaar sneered "I's just beink de happies-camping becalooses Tokis am de learninks".

"Ja, learninks of de happies-camapas" Toki repeated, a ridiculous grin screwing up his face. Hamilton couldn't help it, and chuckled.

"Reminds me of my younger brother, that one" he stroked his goatee "I gotta give the kid a nickname, right?" he got up off the couch, abandoning his pizza, and Took Toki's face in both of his hands. Toki squirmed a little, his eyes flashing over to Skwisgaar for support. Skwisgaar was too busy glaring angrily at Hamilton to notice.

"You two fight like you're married or shomethin', jeesh" Murderface muttered from the other couch. Hamilton and Skwisgaar both ignored him, but Toki turned his head sharply to look at him, hitting his nose on Hamilton's right hand.

"Ja, dey ams de bad couplinks args-yah-ning with dem at now. Dildos" Toki nodded in agreement. Murderface stared at Toki for a moment before bursting into hysterics.

"Dish kid ish fuckin' funny!" he howled, almost falling off the already tipped couch. Skwisgaar and Hamilton shared looks of disgust for Murderface.

"Okay, kid" Hamilton continued "I give all my friends nicknames, and since you aint leavin' anytime soon, I guess that counts you in as a friend"

"…Whats?" Toki went a little cross-eyed trying to figure out what Hamilton had just said.

"Hammelinktons sa att han ska ge dig ett smeknamn, Toki" Skwisgaar clarified. Toki looked delighted.

"Fortell Hammelinktons som høres ut som gøy, Skwisgaar!" Toki demanded.

"He ams sayink he tinks dat ams sounding fun" Skwisgaar reiterated grudgingly.

"Lets seeeeeee…" Hamilton turned Toki's face this way and that. Toki started to bounce in anticipation. "You're young. You're like a little brother… What's his last name again, Twiggy?"

"Wartooth" Skwisgaar rolled his eyes.

"Ohhhh, brutal" Hamilton said gleefully "How... about… Slugger? It's violent and it applies to kids"

"WORST. NICKNAME. EVER." Nathan yelled from the other room, obviously having eavesdropped over the conversation. But the walls were thin, perhaps he wasn't trying to.

"Hva gjør mitt nye kallenavn betyr?" Toki asked.

"Det är som namnet för små bröder som spelar baseboll eller något" Skiwsgaar sighed.

"Dats lame" Toki frowned. Murderface began to cackle again

* * *

"Alright guys" Nathan paced in front of his housemates, hands behind his back. Vague musings of Nathan being in the army flittered through the minds of each of them "There is this guy named Charles Ofdensen. He's interested in being our manager. But the thing is- he wants us all in the same band. So we have to get together somehow and start writin a song"

"How about we just do a cover of one of our bands' songs?" Hamilton asked, craning his neck to see up at Nathan from his seat on the floor.

"Because you know we can't agree on whose band to cover. Besides I can't sing as fuckin' high as Pickles or you guys' singers. Fuckin pussies" Nathan explained. It was true, too. Late Night Homicide and Smugly Dismissed's singers didn't sing in the same style as Nathan, they were more Guns N' Roses or Metallica and less Cannibal Corpse.

"I guess you're right. So we have to write something together?"

"Yup" Pickles stood up, stretching "And we gahtta do it by next week or we're screwed. Charlie also said dat we aughtta get our money strait"

"Yous isn't slug-guesstink….?" Skwisgaar looked absolutely horrified.

"Yeah, sahrry Skwisgaar. Seems lahike we gahtta get jahbs"

"We gotta do WHAT?" Murderface bellowed, sitting up strait.

"Jahbs, Murderface, jahbs" Pickles repeated.

"Yeah, it turns out that we're almost three months overdue on rent. Skwisgaar's trip up to Europe to do whatever the fuck he was doing took up all but thirty of his bank account. Pickles spent 8,000 bucks on vodka, gutter glitter, acido, amp joints, and aunt hazel in the last month… and that's just what I went with him to get. Murderface's grandma froze his account, and I have about 600 bucks saved up from my last few gigs. Hamilton's the only one with a full bank account right now" Nathan listed, counting off the apartment's occupants with his fingers. He noticed Toki sitting in between Skwisgaar's knees on the floor. "What about Toki, Skwisgaar? He got anythin'?"

"Data ams beink de stupidsities kwuh… kweh…. kooways… kwuzex… kweersst… kw… kw… kwuh" no one tried to help Skwisgaar out. It was too amusing.

"ANYWAY" Nathan finally got tired of it "I guess Toki has no money. So if we pool what I got, what Pickles got left, and what Skwisgaar managed to keep together we have…" he tried to remember what Charles had said "About $638.50….. which isn't even close to enough to afford rent for the last couple months, much less a manager for any of us"

"Well fuck me" Murderface grumbled.

"Naht even if ya didn't have crahbs" Pickles snickered. Murderface socked him in the arm. "OW! Motherfuckin'_douchebeag_…" he lapsed into silence, rubbing his boney arm.

"ANYWAY" Nathan yelled again "What are some jobs we can get?"

"I ams not beinks able to speaksing Englsishes veries well. Maybe me getsink jobs is not-so-goods idea" Skwisgaar said.

"You have a point, actually" Nathan agreed "How about a car wash or something? You don't have to talk to do that"

"But.s… okays fines buts I is not beinks happies boat it" Skwisgaar huffed and crossed his arms.

"I can help out by just givin' up a few bucks" Hamilton said before they even got to him "I do NOT want to get a job. Dad won't miss a few hundred"

"Okay good. Murderface, how about you? What can you do besides piss all over everything and grow lice?"

"I can… I can… I could shell movie ticketsh…?" he suggested with a shrug.

"Good. Then there's glass to protect the good citizens of LA from your fucking spit. Now Pickles…" Nathan stoked his chin, ceasing his slow pacing.

"I could be a wine taster" he smiled drunkenly.

"No, Pickles. How about a janitor or something?"

"I can't breath in dem chemicals, dey make my asthma ahct up"

"Pizza delivery?"

"Gaht my license revoked, DUI, remember?"

"Well what the hell _can_ you do?"

"I can drink, get high, sing, and play da gitahr" Pickles grinned again, reaching for a high-five from Murderface. He did not get one.

"Waits an minutes. He ams beink alch-ee-hole-icks, ja? Den ams maybies he goes mincing de drinkses for peoples at da bar" Skwisgaar said. There was and incredulous silence.

"Dude, I think Skwisgahr just gaht a good idea. Makin' drinks sounds _fun_" Pickles raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah… yeah he did" Nathan was equally impressed.

"That leaves one person" Hamilton's eyes shifted down to the floor. Toki was idly humming to himself again, twiddling his thumbs.

"We can't make him get a _jahb_!" Pickles exclaimed "He speaks worse English den Skwisgahr and he's like, sixteen"

"He'sh gotta be good for _shomething_" Murderface sighed.

"I ams can ask hims if he's jobs-worthy" Skwisgaar said "Toki vad kan man göra för arbete? Vi måste tjäna lite pengar snart."

"Du vet jeg kan bære tunge ting og gjøre en masse hagearbeid. Jeg er også god til å holde husdyr. Også, jeg vet ikke om disse sakene, men jeg kan gjøre idrett ting veldig bra også" Toki repied, tapping his chin.

"He ams sayink dats de farmsing works and de heavies-liftings. I tinks he ams goods at dat, he ams doink it ever day for life all de time"

"I'll pretend I got that last part. I guess we can just keep an eye out for a job suiting him"

"And now I suggest we all go eat lunch" Pickles said, his stomach rumbling.

"We gotta eat what we got, though. No goin out" Nathan demanded.

"Sire yessir" Pickles grinned sloppily, cracking open a bottle of beer.

"Booze aint food" Nathan grumbled.

* * *

Dey gahtta get JAHBS D:  
Oh no XD


	9. Chapter 9

"Tokis I ams goink to de jobs place" Skwisgaar called to Toki from the front door, already halfway out. Toki came running from on the couch to see him off.

"Ams you ams cans goink long gone to dem?" he asked, his eyes shifting around the apartment in fear.

"Ams de ones day. I ams not rem-mem-buh-ning de jobses houring"

"…whats?" Toki sighed in frustration. English 'class' with Skwisgaar wasn't going well. Skwisgaar repeated himself in Swedish. "Cans ams de Tokis am be goinks three Skwisgaars?"

"Nos, Tokis stays" Skwisgaar shook his head. Toki cast a wary glance at Murderface, who was asleep on the couch. This would be his first day being without Skwisgaar for more than an hour and he was extremely nervous. He couldn't speak English, Murderface always had something sharp in his hand, and Nathan hated him with a passion. Pickles and Hamilton were the only ones who really cared or watched out for him at all and they were already at work, or in Hamilton's case, at the bank.

"Pluh-sees?" Toki begged, grabbing Skwisgaar's shirt. Skwisgaar sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Fines buts Tokis ams stayink in bestest bee-hive-ink-yor"

"Ja" Toki grinned, following Skwisgaar out the door, having no idea what he just said.

* * *

"Nate, gues what I did at wooooooork today" Pickles called into the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Nathan was sacked out on the couch, mouth hanging open.

"He'sh shleeping" Murderface had the crappy television running, the fuzzy picture fluctuating and making popping sounds as he flipped channels.

"I can see dat" Pickles vaulted over the back and flopped onto the couch next to Murderface "What's ahn TV?"

"I dunno. Shomething fushzzy. Maybe football" Murderface turned to look at Pickles and his eyes popped open "My GOD what did you DO?"

"Nothing I didn't hafta, now change de channel ta somethin' decent. Football sucks"

"Football does not suck" Nathan grunted. Pickles turned to look at him.

"Thought you were sleepin"

"Just dozed off there for a sec" Nathan sat up and stretched "So how was… Oh my GOD" his jaw dropped about ten feet.

"What?" Pickles cocked an eyebrow.

"Your fucking HAIR" Nathan's eyes were about to pop out of his head.

"What?"

"It's… so, uh… so… so…"

"Short?" Pickles asked. Nathan remained silent, staring at the once gorgeous red hair now chopped up to a shaggy mess.

"Fuck, man" Nathan managed to shake his head in disbelief "You look like fuckin' Leonardo Dicaprio"

"It's naht THAT bad" Pickles slumped down on the couch with a pout "… is it?"

"It's pretty fuckin' bad, man. Looks like someone tried to copy your haircut from when you were sixteen and butchered it" Nathan shook his head in disbelief.

"I hadta cut it fer da jahb, though. Dey said my hair wadn't allowd cuz it's a classy joint or somethin'…"

"Sorry you had to do that, man"

"At least dey didn't make me shave it even shorter"

"That's the spirit"

* * *

Skwisgaar had reminded him to behave about sixty times since they'd gotten into the beat up old Toyota. Toki understood what he meant after the first two times. He was to sit quietly in the waiting room until Skwisgaar got his break, then they'd eat lunch, then Skwisgaar would go back to work. It would be another three hours after that until they could go home. What else had he said? Oh! He also said that for Heaven's sake he should try to keep quiet or else he's gonna get his ass kicked. That was right.

So there Toki sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the mechanic's shop. Skwisgaar was on the other side of the building washing cars. The blinding lights and solid white carpet and walls were hurting his eyes as he stared strait ahead. The slow ticking of the clock put him in a bit of a trance. He didn't even realize it was 11:00 until Skwisgaar walked in the door, his shoulder-length hair tied back and in a pair of wet jeans.

"Is lunch" Skwisgaar explained, pulling the rubber band out of his hair.

"Ams hunger" Toki agreed.

"Whats ams you wantinks to be eat?"

"Hangaboigurs" Toki grinned. It had been a long time since he'd had a cheeseburger. His parents had told him that they were bad for his arteries and skin "Ams havink it on salat, tomat, majones, løk, og noen sennep!"

"Ja Tokis. Ams de only good beink things bout Amerry-cane. Has lotses of McDonsalds"

* * *

"Ams home" Skwisgaar called as he tossed his keys on the little table (an empty keg) by the door.

"And Tokis" Toki called.

"Hey guys" Nathan waved from the couch.

"Whats ams down wit Pickle hair?" Skwisgaar screwed up his face, staring Pickles down.

"Hadta cut it fer work" Pickles buried his face in his hands "It's bad, I know"

"Talksing with de hairs cutting, Toki's you ams needing a hairs chop" Skwisgaar made a motion of scissors cutting Toki's hair. Toki's eyes widened and he gripped the ends of his hair like lifelines.

"What are you, hish dad? Jusht let the kid have long hair. It aint even to hish shhouldersh yet"

"Pffffffffffffft. Fines, but ams nots beink happies boat it"

"Fair enough" Nathan interrupted "Why was he at work with you anyways?"

"He ams wantined to gos with me"

"And you just… let him?" Nathan cocked an eyebrow.

"Ja"

"Good Lord" facepalm.

* * *

Dawww Pickles had to cut his hair :(  
I did it for a reason~  
just wait hohoho  
Also, it seems Skwisgaar has a soft spot for Toki 3


	10. Chapter 10

"Ya know" Pickles sighed "Dis jahb thing aint so bad" he had a lofty smile on his lips. He shook the container one more time before pouring it into a glass and handing it to Nathan.

"It's good for ya" Nathan agreed, downing his full glass like a shot "Keeps ya busy and away from drugs n shit"

"I guess so. I only spent halfa what I woulda on coke this week"

"Salmost Death Day" Nathan muttered, killing their joy.

"How lahng we gaht?" Pickles' voice was considerably quieter than it had been.

"Like two days, I think"

"No wonder it's so fuckin cold"

"Yeah. We need to buy jackets if we're gonna live through January; Mrs. Hanson shut off our power. No heating"

"I thaght we paid ahr rent" Pickles growled.

"Yeah, but only the ones we missed. We missed this month payin for the others"

"Fuck, man" Pickles looked like he was going to start crying or throw a tantrum.

"But we'll get through it. Hamilton's got next month covered, he promised"

"Well thaht's good"

"Yeah" they lapsed into silence, the din of the bar filling up their heads. Pickles made Nathan another drink. He downed it much like the first.

"Oh! Dude, guess what" Pickles was suddenly perky again, trying to cheer up Nathan.

"What, Pickles?"

"I gaht a promotion tuhday"

"Excellent! How much ya makin' now?"

"Like more den minimum wage"

"That's awesome" it was the first legitimate smile Pickles had seen Nathan crack in over a month "You've only been on the job a week and you already got a promotion"

"Yessir" Pickles grinned back. It was hard not to when you got to see Nathan's dimples, a feature he tried desperately to hide. Nathan's smile faded off into a thoughtful expression as he continued to stare at Pickles.

"Did you know your freckles are disappearing?"

"Yeah. My mahm had um, but now her's ahr gahn. I guess it happens with age or somthin'" Pickles shrugged.

"Too bad. I liked um" Nathan sighed, shoving his glass over the counter to Pickles, who took it and put it back into a plastic bin of other dirty dishes "I also miss your hair, it was cool"

"Thanks" Pickles tried in vain to keep from turning pink. Luckily, the party lights had him covered.

"Yep" Nathan nodded, his smile returning full-force.

"And I like yer dimples" Pickles felt the need to say something nice, too.

"Pfff. I do not have dimples" Nathan was grinning even wider now.

"Pickles, you're off" a big black man in a pin-stripe suit (people called him Uncle George) bellowed from a little ways down the counter, breaking up their moment.

"Thanks, bahss" Pickles waved.

"Well lets go home, then" Nathan got up off the stool and walked to the front door to wait for Pickles. Pickles rushed out form behind the counter, leaving his nametag and apron under the bar.

"You do too have dimples" he smirked at Nathan as they left the bar.

* * *

"Hey Will" Hamilton leaned against the glass screen blocking Murderface from the world.

"What'sh up?" he asked, leaning his cheek on his fist.

"When you off work? That Charles guy is comin over today"

"Really? We didn't write a shong yet"

"He doesn't know that. We just picked one of Clover Dungeon's songs and changed it up to fit Nathan's voice and Skwisgaar's fast licks"

"Craig'sh gonna be pisshed if he findsh out. He hatesh people tryin to shing hish shongs. He might take the couchesh back too"

"Well Craig's a pussy and we bought those couches fair-n-square. He can fight us for um"

"Guessho. I get off in about an hour jusht sho you know"

"Cool. Seeya at home, Will" he wiggled his fingers and walked back to his car.

* * *

"_Hey Skwisgaar, how come you never got me a job_?" Toki asked on the way home. Him going to work with Skwisgaar had become a daily thing. He usually brought the CD player Pickles had lent him with and just listened to music all day. Too bad all of Pickles' CD's sucked. Toki didn't like New Wave much at all.

"_We can't find one you could do yet. Your English totally sucks, Toki_" Skwisgaar replied, zooming through a red light.

"_Yours isn't so great either_"

"_Well I don't plan on staying here for very long. As soon as this band is over, I'm going back to Sweden and staying there. Maybe start a new band, maybe not_"

"_Will you take me with you_?" Toki asked. The car was silent for a very long time. Just as Toki was about to ask again, Skwisgaar spoke.

"_Well, Toki… by the time I return to Sweden, you'll be old enough to go out on your own_"

"_Oh… okay then, I guess. How old do I have to be to be out on my own_?"

"_18 in America_" Skwisgaar replied _"It's illegal otherwise_"

"_Oh… okay_" Toki gulped. His 17th birthday was coming up soon.

"_Oh, and Toki? That band manager guy is here today, so I need you to chill in the apartment by yourself while I go with the other guys to audition, okay?_" Toki nodded.

_"I guess so. Will you lock the door when you leave_?"

"_Of course_"

"_Will you have a phone with you in case something happens_?"

"_I think Hamilton has one. But I don't know Toki. Why are you so paranoid_?"

"_Well… this city is so much bigger than Lillehammer… and I…_ _I_" he looked miserably into his lap "_You know I have issues trusting people. It's just… you know what I mean, right_?"

"_Yeah. Just don't answer the door if someone knocks. We'll have keys so we can get back in_" Skwisgaar peeled his eyes from the road long enough to smile warmly at Toki, who smiled back.

* * *

"Alright, guys. We should be going. Is the kid going to be okay by himself, Skwisgaar?"

"He ams maybes shoulds be fines" Skwisgaar replied.

"Good. Tell him not to touch my shit"

"Rör inte Nat'an's grejer, okej?" Skwisgaar told Toki. Toki rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Good" he turned to Toki "Seriously. Don't touch my shit"

"Pffft. Ams goinks not to ams doin de dat ams touchink" Toki rolled his eyes. It was the first thing he'd ever said to Nathan directly.

"…Okay then. Let's go guys" Nathan helped Pickles up off the couch and _poof_. They were gone.

Toki resigned himself to the couch, tried the TV, realized it wasn't working, tried the old radio, and found that to be broken as well. "_What am I supposed to do for an hour_?" he wondered, shaking his head angrily. About twenty minutes into his alone time, however, the doorbell rang. More desperate for something to do than to obey Skwisgaar, Toki got up to answer it.

"Hallo?" he said to the man outside. He was a lot taller than Toki, but the hat on his head may have been adding to that.

"Hey, kid. You live here?"

"Ja…?" Toki tried.

"Is Pickles here by any chance?" the man started to peer around Toki.

"Pickle ams drum" Toki responded, recognizing Pickles' name.

"…What? No. The guy with the red hair and freckles. About this tall?" the man held his hand up to about his eye level.

"Ja. Ams de Pickle de drum" Toki insisted. He knew that Pickles was a drummer, why didn't this guy?

"Look, kid. I can see you don't speak English so well, you must be a pal of Skwisgaars"

"Skwisgaars ams pal, ja" Toki replied.

"Just tell Pickles that I was here, okay?"

"Tellsink Pickle ams de longs hat man ams stopsink here" Toki repeated… sort of.

"Yeah, yeah. Tall hat. Sure that works" the man shook his head in disgust and walked off.

"For en merkelig fyr" Toki sighed and shut the door.

* * *

"Alright. Have you gentlemen decided on a name yet?" Charles asked, sitting in the front row seats of a theatre on Sunset Strip someone had been nice enough to lend them for forty minutes or so. It was a really nice place with fantastic acoustics and an actual paint job. It had been a while since anyone in the apartment had ventured out on the strip, and they could honestly say they felt way out of place. Luckily it was only them and Charles there, no one else to judge them.

"No, sorry" Nathan shook his head.

"Okay then. What song will you be performing this evening?"

"Yeah, Nate. What sahng ahr we playin?" Pickles whispered.

"Down That Rabbit Hole"

"Hey ams dat nots dat song Crai-" Skwisgaar was punched harshly by Pickles "Ow"

"You guys know your parts, right?" Nathan peered back at his new band-mates, his face set in uncertainly. They indicated that they did… sorta.

"Alright then. Please start"

"…mmkay" Nathan mumbled, taking the mike. Pickles sat behind his drum set, Skwisgaar held his explorer tenderly, whispering something in Swedish, Murderface unzipped his pants, and Hamilton tossed his cigarette off to the side.

"I…" Nathan paused "Fell… Down". Pickles tapped his drum sticks together three times and off the song went.

"I fell down Alice's rabbit hole

For the very first time

Because when I'm with Alice

It's not hard to unwind

Seeing that white rabbit

Twitch its pale behind

It's enough to drive you hatter- mad

But don't try it

She's mine"

Nathan would be the first to admit that it wasn't his kind of song. Their friend Craig's band, Clover Dungeons, was a soft rock band. The song had been written about his girlfriend, Alice, giving it up to Craig. Craig was a pretty sappy guy and Alice and him had broken up not two months later, but Nathan thought the music would be easy to make heavier (not to mention he'd slept with Alice two days after the split- and he had to admit she was a damn good fuck). Alice in Wonderland was like an acid trip, so it counted as metal. And the lyrics were just right so that he could grumble them if he wanted to.

He'd also be the first to admit the lyrics sucked, but hey. At least the band could play it somewhat well….

"Gentlemen" Charles said two minutes later, making a few checks on his clipboard "That was very good"

"Thanks. I guess" Nathan muttered.

"I will contact you within the next week" and Charles was out the door.

"What a weird dude" Hamilton said.

* * *

"Hey Toki, we're hoooooome" Pickles called out, as was his habit.

"Pickle!" Toki gasped, remembering the visitor. He shot off the couch. Skwisgaar intercepted him before he could get to Pickles.

"_Toki, did you do what I told you_?" he asked. Toki looked away quickly. Oh shit.

"Um…umm…Jaaaa…" he lied with a wince. Skwisgaar scowled.

"_That's a no isn't it_?'

"…Ja" Toki hung his head "_I'm in trouble, aren't I_?"

"Ja. Veries troubles" Skwisgaar muttered "he ams nots doink as I say" he clarified to the others.

"Well what'd he do? Da place looks fahine" Pickles looked around again to be sure.

"_What did you do, Toki_?" Toki winced. He'd heard that many times a day back home and it had never ended well. Lying never did either, of course.

"_I opened the door when the bell rang. It was someone for Pickles with a hat_"

"_Well don't do it again. Pickles probably just ordered a pizza and forgot; he always does shit like that_" Skwisgaar rolled his eyes.

"_I won't Skwisgaar_" Toki muttered.

"_Alright then_. He ams nots doink nothinks imp-poar-ta-nent"

"Oh. Good. Okay." Nathan was relieved beyond belief. If the kid had screwed something up, he would have been pissed.

"Anyway. Hi there, Toki!" Pickles grinned. Toki latched around him in a hug.

"How old ish dish kid again?" Murderface cocked an eyebrow.

"Am sixes and ten" Skwisgaar replied.

"He acts about five" Nathan grunted.

"He ams havink de whats you say families ish… ish-uh… ish-yous" Skwisgaar said.

"No kidding"

* * *

"It's been two days… you'd think Charles would have called us by now" Nathan buried his head in his hands.

"Naw, dese thing take taihme. Give 'im a while, kay" Pickles smiled his crooked grin and ruffled Nathan's shaggy hair playfully.

"I guess you're right. Knock that off" Nathan swatted at Pickles' hand, a smile forcing its way onto his face. Pickles stuck his tongue out and went to retrieve something.

"I'm always right" Pickles smirked, starting to wip off the counter.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, is tomorrow your day off?" Nathan asked, leaning on the bar. Pickles impatiently nudged his elbows out of the way.

"Yeah, thank Gahd. I'm so tired of gettin' up early" he chuckled.

"So when do you get off today?"

"I think about six"

"It's only three" Nathan grumbled.

"Jeez, dat's it? Maybe ya aughtta go home, Nate. I can hold my own for three more hours"

"If you say so. I'll be here to drive you home at 5:40, just in case"

"A'right. Seeya"

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to hang around?" Nathan asked, knitting his eyebrows.

"Ahm fahiiiine, Nate. Now _go home_" Pickles laughed and rolled his eyes, shoving Nathan's elbows off the counter.

"Fine, fine" Nathan raised his hands in defense "I'm goin"

"Good. Now _go_"

"Hey, kid" a deep voice addressed Pickles.

"Yeah, bahss?" Pickles replied, tossing the rag into the sink behind him.

"That your friend?"

"Yeah, his name's Nat'an"

"Oh, okay. He's been hangin around a lot lately, I was just wondering"

"I lahst my lahicense, so he's gahtta drive me home"

"Fine with me, kid. Anyway, your break's startin' if you wanna take it. We don't get much customers on today, anyway"

"Thanks, Uncle G" Pickles smiled his gratitude to Uncle George. He untied his apron and hung it on the hook under the counter before exiting out the back door. He ripped open a brand new pack of cigarettes, stuck one in his mouth, and started patting his pockets for his lighter. Before he could find it, his cigarette was lit. He looked up and it dropped out of his mouth.

"Hey Red"

* * *

A/N

OHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh snap. Poor Pickles, his life kinda sucks...

I did actually write the lyrics to that song they auditioned with, but I'm not particularly proud of them. So don't like think they're srs bnz or anything.

Pickles + Nathan fluff *fangasm*


	11. Chapter 11

"T… Tony?" Pickles squeaked.

"Yeah, it's me" Tony shuffled his feet idly, kicking a little bit of trash behind the dumpster.

"How'd you know I worked here?" Pickles backed up a step, his ankles colliding with the bottom stair.

"I was here a couple days ago meeting with some…" his eyes darted around and he cleared his throat "…associates and I saw you. You cut your hair. I thought it was beautiful before, I don't know why you'd chop it all off"

"Well I didn't wanna… I had ta for- Hey! Forget da fuckin' hair Tony. Why're you here?" Pickles stamped his foot angrily, sending up clouds of dirt.

"You aren't wearing boots. Or eyeliner. And you're in a t-shirt without holes… and a collar" Tony continued stating the obvious, his eyes refusing to meet Pickles'. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, something Pickles had always been doing "_Ta see yur sexy face, ya douchebag_!" Pickles' cheeks flushed scarlet.

"It's cahlled da _90_'s, I did some growin' up. I thahght you never wanted ta see me again"

"I was pretty pissed. I'm sorry, Red. I truly am. I miss you" Tony leaned into Pickles' face, his lips almost reaching his forehead, but was met with the palm of Pickles' hand instead.

"Naht. Even." Pickles scoffed "Naht until I get some sorta explahnation from you"

"Well the maf - you see- it isn't- I mean…" Tony sighed heavily "Red, I told you I can't tell you! It isn't as simple as you think it is. It could get you as well as me killed"

"Just as I thahght" Pickles rolled his eyes and turned to go back into the bar. Tony grabbed his hand.

"Pickles, come on" he pleaded "I said I was sorry!"

"So did I, but dat didn't seem ta matter ta you" Tony visibly flinched.

"Pickles- Red- babe, come on, I'm _so_ sorry! Just come back and we can talk" he pulled Pickles off the steps and finally stared him deep in the eyes "Please"

"T…Tony, I-" he muttered, their faces inches apart. He wanted so badly to just forgive him, but the night Nathan had drug him out… Nathan was there for him when Tony wasn't, and he couldn't just forget that. Nate would be pissed. "…I jus' can't do dis anymore, ahm sahrry" Pickles tried to shove him away.

The door to the back opened suddenly "Pickles, the guys all wanted to do something for Death Day soon and were wondering if … you could…get off… early…" Nathan cleared his throat, his voice he used in the presence of friends gone "The fuck're YOU doin here?"

"Well I came to apologize, but apparently Red aint havin' it"

"I don't blame him. Now clear outta here" Nathan commanded, taking a step forward. Tony in turn took a step back, still holding on to Pickles' hands.

"You told him" Tony accused, glancing quickly at Pickles, then back to Nathan.

"Yeah" Nathan growled "Yeah he did. He also told me what a fuckin 'douchebag' you've been. So _clear out_." Nathan snatched Pickles' hands from Tony and yanked him- a little too roughly- out of the way.

"It's not that easy to get rid of me, Nathan" Tony said icily. He turned to Pickles "I'm comin' back for you, babe" he turned on his heel and walked away. Pickles felt his eyes prick and started to panic, only making the sting worse. If he cried in front of Nathan now, there wasn't any darkness to cover it up this time. He'd be lucky if Nathan held any respect for him at all, especially after standing up for him like that _again_. He could just hear Nathan now:

_ "Wow, Pickles.I had to fix your problems, you're a total fag, AND a big fuckin' cry-baby? I thought you were bad-ass"_

And he knew Nathan wouldn't believe him if he told the truth. He wasn't gay. Before he'd started fighting with Tony, it had been twelve years since he'd cried more than a single tear.

_"Oh shit, man! Pickles, that was one bad wipe out… your skateboard is busted…Oh my God… I can see your fucking bone, dude… sick!"_

Tony was special in both those regards. The thought of Nathan abandoning him freaked him out to the point he heard himself start choking to hold the tears back. He'd have no one at all. Toki would be the only one in the world that held any respect for him or even liked him, and he wouldn't be able to go see Toki- a kid he'd only just met a month ago. Why was he thinking about _Toki_?- because Nathan would be there. He'd be completely alone in the world again, just like when he was sixteen.

_"You belahng in a garbage can"_

Just like when the entire world left him alone and starving on the streets. Until Tony came and picked him up.

_"Hey, Red, what you doin' all by yourself out here? I saw you singin' and well… I got this band, and we need a front man. You interested?" _

But no matter how much he prayed the tears wouldn't go past his eyes, he felt one run down his face. It was all just too much. Before he knew it, there were more and more and more until he broke down sobbing.

"…" Nathan opened his mouth a few times, trying to fid something to say, but nothing came to mind. His thoughts were blank as he stared at his hysterical best friend. He'd never felt sorrier for anyone, not even himself. There was just something about Pickles sobbing so desperately- it struck that nerve Nathan couldn't identify. It had back in November, and it was coming back with a renewed vigor now. His stomach felt like it was filling with ice water, his ears channeled every noise as a dull thrumming, only Pickles' sobs reaching them properly, his hands were trembling, and his vision was blurry.

His fucking vision was _blurry_…..

"Fuck" Nathan rubbed his eyes, feeling tiny drops spread out over his knuckles. "Fuck fuck _fuck_" he whispered. Metal gods in the making did _not fucking cry_.

* * *

The only sounds in the apartment were the cards flipping from hands to the table and the soft fizzle of the television. It was a Friday and the calendar-date wasn't a day any of the occupants enjoyed much at all. There was the special spiced rum you could only get around this time of year sitting in four cups on the table, half gone and long-since warm. Two waited on the kitchen counter sitting on a hotplate, waiting for their recipients to come home and drink them.

When the front door opened, no one bothered to look up until they heard silence. Pickles always called out. Soon everyone's heads turned up. They were still silent. Nathan gave all four of them a measured look, expressing gratitude for the silence. He led Pickles into their room and there were no signs of them coming out any time soon.

"Fuck…" Skwisgaar said breathily, his eyes wide.

"Guys. I'm just going to say, that whatever it is, this is not something to tease him about" Hamilton spoke. He received two nods, Toki looking forlornly at Nathan and Pickles' door.

"Merry fuckin' Chrishtmash" Murderface sighed, shaking his head.

END OF YEAR I

* * *

A/N

I REALLY wanted to write a cliche ex-boyfriend scene. Forgive me XD  
I really like to write about how people think without it being in first person. It gives you more of a chance to picture what's going on instead of relating to it... or something haha.

Also: I'm loving Pickles X Nathan more and MORE but there prolly won't be any ACTUAL slash for those two in this (or Toki and Skwis for that matter). It's all PRE slash~

So there will be fluff . The next chapter is New Year's Day. I'll upload it tomorrow.


	12. Year Two Begins

"Ams News Year" Skwisgaar grinned out at his friends. They all stared blankly back. "Ams good, ja?"

"Yeah, but dude, it's just the New Year" Hamilton cocked an eyebrow.

"In Sea-weedsin we ams tinks News Year's very imp-port-tant" Skwisgaar looked around, met with five confused looks. "Ams honorsings Valhalla?" Skwisgaar tried again. No reaction.

"In America we just get drunk" Nathan grunted.

"Soundses likes de sames" Skwisgaar nodded "Withs less of de honorsings of de Valhalla"

"Your religion'sh fucked up" Murderface rolled his eyes "You can't be shhomething normal like Mormon or Shatanisht or something, can you?"

"What ams Mor-a-mons?"

"Never mind. Look, lets just go out on the town and get so smashed we forget 1996 completely, deal?" Nathan started to get up off the couch.

"This year was a total drag" Pickles agreed, staying where he was, curled up into a tight ball on the very edge of the sofa… where he had been for six days.

"I gots a Tokis" Skwisgaar pointed out "Tokis ams good think"

"Yeah, I guess so" Pickles shrugged "Maybe it's jus' my last few months dat've been shitty"

"Ja, maybies" Skwisgaar agreed, really not knowing what Pickles was talking about.

"So where were we? Ah, going out ta get smashed" Pickles peeled himself off the couch, his joints popping.

"Sure you're good to go out?" Nathan asked, scanning him warily.

Pickles nodded and pulled on his shoes "Yeah, yeah. Ahm faihne. Stahp worryin'" he snapped irritably.

"If ya say so" Nathan shrugged and started out the door to start up the car.

"So what bar were you thinkin?" Hamilton asked Nate, climbing into the front passenger seat. Nate shoved him back out.

"Dunno. You sit in back today, Pickles is sitting here"

"Jeez, fine" Hamilton grumbled, scooting into the car again. Skwisgaar and Toki came next, squeezing into the middle seat. Murderface got extra room on the right side because no one wanted to touch him. Finally Pickles walked- more like stumbled- out of the apartment, scraped the door trying to lock it, and fell into the front seat.

"Shut the door" Nathan demanded. It was shut. He hit the gas as hard as he could into reverse without any further warning, sending the five unbuckled back passengers flying into whatever was in front of them.

"OWS"

"Fuck, TNT!"

"SHTUPID ASH-HOLE"

"I am tinks I brokes mines face!"

"Where'd you learn ta drahive, Nat'an?"

"Shut up" Nathan switched out of reverse and sped up the street, almost hitting two people and managing to take up both lanes.

"We're gonna die before it's even 1997!" Pickles latched his seatbelt and pulled it as tight as he could. The four in back were not lucky enough to all get a seatbelt.

"Please… slowink… down" Skwisgaar stuttered, searching desperately for his seatbelt. It turned out Toki was wearing it. Skwisgaar sighed angrily at Toki, but let him keep it on.

"Stop your complaining. The bar we want is only like…uh, ten minutes away" Nathan demanded, slamming on the breaks to avoid running a red light into heavy oncoming traffic.

"Or three wit' your drivin" Pickles snickered. Nathan rolled his eyes and sped forward as soon as the light glowed green again, almost hitting a corvette that was a little late through the yellow light.

But, as Pickles predicted, they were at the bar within three minutes of back shortcuts and reckless driving on Nathan's part. No airbags were employed, no bones broken, and no blood spilt. The only injury of consequence was a medium-sized bump on Pickles' forehead from hitting the dashboard.

This bar was unlike the ratty joints they had around their parts; it was an actual two-story club with a couple of hefty guards out front and a line of party-goers stretching down the street, waiting to get their chance to celebrate the New Year. The line was all the way curled around the building into the backmost parking area. The boys all stared the crowd down cautiously as Nathan slowed down to what one would consider a relatively safe speed and pulled into a parking place (two parking places).

"Dis aint lookin' good, Nate" Pickles elbowed Nathan and pointed to the crowd "We won' get in wit all dem people waitin"

"Oh yes we will" Hamilton scoffed "I can make sure of that"

"I thought you didn't like to bring your dad into things" Nathan turned off the car and rotated around to look at Hamilton disdainfully.

"Well…" Hamilton's troubled grimace turned upward into a smile "it's a special occasion I guess. I mean, we didn't even have Toki last year, Skwisgaar didn't speak enough English to take him out, Pickles was busy settling the last bits of that Snakes N' Barrels lawsuit, Will was in the hospital, and you were at your parents. This year is going to be fantastic, let's make up for last year"

"That was a really ga..." Nathan's glance at Pickles went unnoticed "really lame speech, man"

"Hey, I can be sentimental sometimes. One day all this 'brutality' and coldness towards friends is going to kill one of you" Hamilton glared.

"I guess I can see your point. Now get out of the car, I want some booze" Nathan unlocked the doors and all four were thrust open immediately. Toki was so excited by the lights and people that he crawled over Skwisgaar to get out first. Skwisgaar shoved him out angrily and Toki fell on his face on the asphalt.

"Settles down" he ordered. Toki pouted, not unlike a small child. "What ams you, sixes?" Skwisgaar sneered.

"And tens" Toki corrected.

"Whatever. Gets down, we ams partyings now"

"Ahp" Pickles remedied as he passed by them "Dis is ahp. Dis is down" he pointed accordingly.

"Oh. Tack, Pickle" Skwisgaar followed along behind him, leaving Toki sitting on the ground. Toki sat there for a long moment, as you do when upset and searching for sympathy. He stared down at the asphalt, waiting for someone to at least acknowledge that he needed help up. No such luck. He stood up on his own, leaning on the car for support, nursing a scraped knee. The car alarm sounded.

"Tokis!" Skwisgaar called, already passing through the front door of the club. Toki swayed, staring deadpan into Skwisgaar's eyes. Skwisgaar felt the cool sensation crawl down his spine, even 60 feet away. He shivered and gestured for Toki to come inside. "Be hurryinks, little Tokis, or you ams not gettink ins!"

Toki didn't understand what Skwisgaar was saying, only that they were going into the flashy building. Toki had never seen so many different colored lights in one place- or at all- before. Los Angeles was almost too much for Toki. So much new stuff to see, new words to learn, and it didn't help that he kept looking over his shoulder, making sure his parents weren't there.

He tromped up to Skwisgaar, anger fading into despair and disappointment. He was expecting Skwisgaar to be a father-figure for him. Care for him, help him when he needed it, and just BE there. But no, he got a mean, cold, older brother.

"Tooks long enoughs" Skwisgaar muttered, grabbing the keys from Nathan and clicking the alarm off.

"Hvorfor har dere ikke hjelpe meg opp?" Toki asked dejectedly.

"You ams getsink dow…ups just fines" Skwisgaar blew him off, not even bothering to translate. They made their way into the club and were met with walls of TVs displaying a giant ball and crowds of people. There was a big timer on the television screen, telling that there was exactly 3 hours, 34 minutes, and 45 seconds left until something happened.

"Whats…ams… dis?" Toki paused between words, both to shout over the music and to think up the right words. Skwisgaar cupped a hand around his ear and Toki repeated himself, pointing to the big ball on the TV. Skwisgaar stared at it long and hard before shrugging.

"Ams Amerry-canes ritual. I ams not knowinks" he leaned against the bar and Toki took a stool next to him. Two red white and blue drinks were shoved over the counter at them. Toki looked at it, then at Skwisgaar. Skwisgaar was too busy snatching his own and conversing with a woman old enough to be his mother plus a little. Toki looked around twice to make sure no one was watching before taking a tentative sip of the tiny drink. It made his head feel light like the bottle Pickles had given him. The feeling reminded him of the slight tingle he'd had though his body after the ceremony at church involving symbolized blood. He took another sip, this one large enough to burn his throat. It tasted amazing, just like hot chocolate and cherry pop. After another small sip, it was gone. The man behind the bar handed him a glass of beer. Toki took it hesitantly.

"What ams dis…dat dis ams three?" he asked. The bartender shook his head condescendingly and went to serve someone else.

"It's cahlled a chaser" Pickles was suddenly next to Toki, but he was a little blurry. Toki rubbed his eyes and Pickles swam for another moment before coming into somewhat clear view.

"Ch… chaser" Toki repeated.

"Yeah. Hard liquor, den somet'in else. Dis is beer" Pickles signaled to the bartender. Two more of what Toki had just had were set in front of them. "Gahd bless America" Pickles downed the entire shot, and then took a huge gulp of Toki's beer. Toki copied him.

"Dis ams g… god" Toki grinned happily, loving the soft chocolate aftertaste almost more than the initial burning cherry flavor.

"It's good, kid, but I wouldn't go as far as ta say it's Gahd"

"Nej, nej. Ams… tast-aye"

"Tastes good?" Pickles cocked an eyebrow. Toki nodded, grinning again.

"Ja, veldig bra" he copied what Pickles had done earlier, signaling the man behind the counter. Yet more shots were placed in front of them.

"You're a nahchral" Pickles started giggling. Toki joined in soon, seemingly unable to help it.

"Heyyy" a couple of girls- they couldn't have been legally old enough to be in the bar- twitched their hips all the way up to them. Toki looked up, still laughing, but ceased as his eyes widened and his brain quit working all together. Suddenly all he could see was wide hips, smooth thighs, perfect legs, kitten heels, too-short skirts… and pushup bras that disguised b-cups as c-cup breasts. All he could smell was a spicy medley of perfume and glitter lotion. All he could think was "Hot DAMN". All he could feel was her cool hand on his torn up jeans and her nails tickling his skin. His eyes scanned up and down the girl directly in front of him.

"H…hellos" his voice cracked. The girl giggled.

"Wanna dance, cutie?" she giggled.

"Dance… dance…Oh! Dans? Ja!" he rocketed off his stool in a hurry, toppling it over. The girl didn't seem to notice, other than flirtatious giggle. Pickles rolled his eyes and turned to the bartender, ignoring the girl's friend. He didn't need to go to jail for a moderately attractive, a-cup, sixteen-year-old girl.

"So… what's your name?" she asked, gabbing his hips. Toki took a moment to think over what she said, his cheeks coloring.

"Ams Toki" he replied, debating on whether or not to return the touch "Og yous?"

"I'm Courtney" she did a maneuver Toki didn't recognize as dancing. But it sure felt nice.

"Nice… to… Nice to" he stuttered "…Ams not talksink Eengslish" he sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumping. Courtney's eyes widened slightly in awe.

"You're… _foreign_?" her face lit up.

"Umm…" he didn't know the answer.

"Where are you from- like I mean, you know- what country? Is it in Europe, I knew American boys couldn't be as cute as you, hahaha, and here I was just thinking you were stupid or something" she panted at the end, running out of breath between the muggy surroundings and run-on sentences.

"Oh! Europa? Ja. Ams froms…ams froms… Norge"

"Sounds kinda like Norway" she said thoughtfully. By this point they had stopped dancing completely and were just standing still in the middle of the dance floor, getting knocked into from time to time. "So…" she laced her arms around his neck, pulling him down a full six inches to her height "Do you wanna, like, y'know…" she looked up into his eyes almost innocently.

"I don'ts" he replied.

"You mean you don't wanna or you don't_ know?_" she cocked her head.

"I nots knows" he nodded. She smirked and he jumped as she did something entirely inappropriate.

"_That_" she whispered in his ear. Toki shivered. Half of him said "Go. Go Now!" and the other half told him to run as fast as he could away. He put his hands on her hips as the beat changed to something faster.

"Dans now" he said. She shrugged.

"For now" she agreed, starting to swing her hips.

* * *

"PICKLES" Nathan stumbled up to him, his hips hitting the bar audibly. Pickles winced as his bowl of cashews spilled everywhere.

"Yeeuuuuahhh, Nay… Noo…Nat'an?" Pickles struggled to focus on his best friend.

"There's… there's, uh, like…thiry- no- forty… no like twenty minutes until the ball drops"

"Awessssome" Pickles thrust a deformed thumbs-up Nathan's way.

"Where's, uh… where's that kid, uh… Toki. Yeah where's Toki?"

"He went ahf with some girl. She was good-lookin', but way underage" Pickles shook his head sadly, taking a sip of his beer.

"I hope she doesn't have, like, AIDS" Nathan sat down heavily on the stool next to Pickles, leaning his head on his hand.

"Nahhh, she was fahine" Pickles belched before shoving some of the spilled nuts into his mouth.

"Nice one" Nathan nodded his approval, taking a cashew and eating it. His eyes twitched up to the clock on the many TVs, before switching back to Pickles. "So what was your favorite, uh… memory from this year?" he asked.

"So we resorted ta small tahlk, huh?" Pickles sighed "Well, I'd hafta say it'd be…" he paused to think for a very long time. Nathan was about to tell him to forget it before Pickles let a small smile curl onto his lips "You remember dat one tahime we went drivin' out in da woods for 'camping' in May?" Nathan nodded "Well d'ya remember when youn'me gaht lahst lookin fer a clear patch out in da trees? Yeah. Dat was pretty fun. I laihked jus' sittin n' watchin da stars through da trees. It was pretty stellar"

"Murderface got that bear angry, though" Nathan recalled, absentmindedly scratching the deep scar on his forearm from wrestling the little cub. Those things were vicious.

"Yeah, but we gaht ta sleep outside. Dat was cool, my parents never took me camping"

"It wasn't really camping" Nathan chuckled "Proper camping involves building a fire and setting up tents and, like, cooking hotdogs and shit on an open fire. Pretty brutal when you get spiders in your tent"

"Sounds like a loada crap ta me" Pickles shrugged, finishing off his beer "Uhg. Gahd. I'm gonna puke"

"Well aim it that way" Nathan gestured away from him. Pickles replied that he would.

"Hey guysh" Murderface and Skwisgaar stalked up, both looking very pleased with themselves. Skwisgaar had a trail of ladies staring at his ass, and Murderface thought they were looking at him.

"Whats ams you toalkink about?" Skwisgaar leaned on the bar, being sure to pop his hips just right so that his ass was in wide-zoom HD for the women.

"What we liked da best frahm dis year" Pickles replied "Sadly, I dun remember much, I was blacked out fer a laht of it"

"Mines best mams-ore-keys is froms my trips to Sands-of-navia" Skwisgaar smiled loftily.

"What, you met up with some old fuck-buddy?" Nathan snickered.

"Nos" Skwisgaar scowled.

"You never did tell ush about your trip, Shhkiwshhgar" Murderface pulled up a stool from a little ways away.

"Oh, ja!" Skwisgaar acted like he hadn't meant to keep it that way. But he was drunk and it was a time to celebrate their experiences past. So what the hell. "I goes to sees old bands, knot-up loose tails, ja? Well I's gets to Sea-weedsen and I hears about dis kids dat ams lookink for jobs, and I's not thinks much firsts.

"Sos I goes to lawers-mans and dey fixes up with patches of de papers. Buts den ons my way out of de off-or-cises I's see a persons sittinks in de snow witouts a jacket. I tells him he'd dildos for nots wearink a coats, buts den I really sees him and he ams, guess whats?" Skwisgaar paused for dramatic effect most likely.

"I dunno, some old hobo?" Pickles suggested, his arm slipping off the bar, his head colliding with it. It took a minute for everyone to stop laughing, but eventually Skwisgaar continued.

"It ams ones of dems teen-ages. I's not recsognizes him, buts he knows me. I tells him I buys him coats if he ams promisink to wears it, on counts of him ruhmembserink me and mes not beink knowink him. I feels bads becaloose I knowinks him a littles, but not really ruhmembuhsink all of hims. Sos we goes pasts dis place wit de musiks stuff, and he ams lookinks real happies boats it. I asks if he ams playink guitars, and he ams re-plays Ja. Dens I starts remembserink him. He ams little kids I knews when I was sixes-and-tens, so we hangsink outs for rets of my trip. Wes used to bes real good friends, ja?

"But den he ams tellink me he runs away form home. I thinks he ams just dere wit hims pars-ents, but he ams lonesomes. Den…" Skwisgaar hesitated "Den… ummm… Pffffft. Rest ams histories, forgets it" he snagged Pickles' newly attained shot and downed it.

"So dat kid was Toki, raight?" Pickles asked, acquiring a new drink.

"Ja, of course" Skwisgaar rolled his eyes "Who else ams it beink? Where ams Toki, bys the road?" he scanned the crowd.

"He went off with some teenage slut" Nathan grunted, stealing some more of Pickles' cashews. Skwisgaar's jaw dropped and Murderface snorted (a comical occurrence by anyone's standards- Skwisgaar looked ridiculous).

"WHATS?"

"I said he went off with some teena-"

"I heards what you sayinks!" Skwisgaar cut him off "Where ams dey went? Toki ams de…de… de What ams word for oskuld…?" he tapped his foot and chin impatiently "Ams pure? Ams nice, ams good, am snots havink de sex…ams…"

"A virgin?" Nathan offered.

"JA! Ja, he ams virgin and nots speaksink englishes well. He mights gets in big shit"

"Oh. They were dancin' a bit agooo" Pickles inspected the crowd. Just as Skwisgaar began to actually show his worry, Hamilton came up to them, supporting a very drunk Toki. Hamilton did not look pleased.

"Found him pukin' in the bathroom. He wouldn't let me touch him and kept hitting me, but then he just kinda went… catatonic. Some girl was in there with him without a shirt on. Weird shit, man"

"Tokis" Skwisgaar shook Toki's shoulder violently. Toki's head wobbled off of Hamilton's shoulder and hit his chest. He started falling.

"Fuck!" Nathan caught his arm. Toki snapped back into reality, blinking vigorously. He looked around dizzily before noticing Nathan's hand on him. He seemed to panic and socked Nathan in the face. Nathan toppled backwards off his stool, much to everyone's surprise.

"Få vekk fra meg!" Toki shouted, reeling back and cradling his hand. Nathan was a big guy, and even Skwisgaar, who was the same height, would have an extremely hard time knocking over even a very drunk Nathan.

"Tokis…" Skwisgaar set a hand on his shoulder. Everyone around them was staring at Toki, the imminent ball-drop forgotten. Toki threw it off and backed himself into the bar. Nathan slowly sat up, Pickles rushing to help him, but only ending up falling himself between Nathan's weight and his own drunkenness.

"Jeg sa ikke rør meg!" Toki yelled again, more heads turning their way.

"Hey, Slugger! Calm down" Hamilton stepped up to the plate. He was only an inch taller than Toki, but had at least forty pounds on him. Nathan had at least fifty or sixty, but was unprepared and very drunk. Or at least that was what Hamilton was telling himself as he reached out to grab Toki.

"No!" Toki shook his head vigorously, like a child throwing a very dangerous tantrum "gets… gets gone"

"Hva er problemet, Toki? Vi er ikke prøver å skade deg ..." Skwisgaar approached him slowly. "_Let's go, okay_?" he gestured towards the door.

"TEN. NINE. EIGHT. SEVEN" the crowd turned away from their drama, more interested in the Time Square ball dropping than watching a bunch of drunk kids fight. Nathan had finally managed to sit up, his lip split and gushing blood. He shot a desultory glare at the receding back of Toki before standing, using the bar stool for support.

"SIX. FIVE. FOUR. THREE. TWO… ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" the crowd, including Murderface and Pickles screamed happily, all downing their drinks at the end.

* * *

A/N

Spot the epic foreshadowing and the bad baseball pun~

Also, if the "cherry pop" bit confuses anyone (which it has before) "pop" is the same as "soda", you call it pop up in the North and soda pretty much everywhere else. I never knew some people didn't know the difference. :|


	13. Chapter 13

"I'm going down to Florida for a while" Nathan addressed them all over breakfast. Hamilton paused, his cereal halfway into his mouth. He stuck the full spoon back into the bowl.

"Why?"

"My… my grandmother is dying" Nathan grimaced "I have to go help my mom and dad out. My grandpa died like three years ago and my mom's been a wreck since. She says she really needs me" Nathan rubbed his neck, an unusual strained look in his eyes.

"Gahd, Nate. Ahm Sahrry… How lahng you gonna be gahn?" Pickles finished pouring his beer into his Frosted Flakes.

"Well, it's cancer…so, uh… it could be a pretty long while. Tell me if that good-for nothing Ofdensen guy calls. Stupid asshole hasn't even bothered to call since our 'try-out' or whatever"

"Yeah. What a douchebeag. It's almost February"

"How are we going to keep up rent with you gone, TNT? You're kinda like the monetary moderator, here" Hamilton pushed his cereal at Toki, who'd been waiting for a turn with the milk. Happy to not have to do any work, Toki started to gobble it down.

"You'll think of something" Nathan sighed, leaning on the counter. A piece of the crappy countertop crumbled and fell to the floor.

"When… when are you leaving?" Pickles' voice was tense. He didn't think he could handle Nathan leaving.

"Um… in a little while. Like an hour-ish. My bus to the airport gets here at 9:00" Nathan cleared his throat "Pickles, can I, uh… talk to you?" he gestured towards their room.

"Yeah" Pickles nodded, also pushing his cereal at Toki. Being a drug addict, he never ate much anyway. Toki, being almost seventeen and a boy, ate like he had nothing else to do. Skwisgaar sleepily pulled Pickles' cereal out of Toki's reach and watched the frothy beer drain down the sink as he disposed of it. The incident on New Year's Day had put Toki on thinner ice than he'd ever been on. Nathan hadn't spoken a single word to him since, and everyone in the apartment was careful to avoid giving him anything stronger than caffeine. He wasn't allowed in the apartment when anyone had drug-related guests or when anyone had a party. He was usually sent to chill over at his new "friend", Courtney's house.

"I can'ts belivinks dat Nat'ans is goinks back to hims parentses house. Him father ams dildos at hims" Skwisgaar handed Toki his cereal as well.

"Yeah. Poor guy" Murderface agreed "It sucksh that hish dad'sh shusch an assh-hole. Hish mom sheemsh nishe to me though"

"My moms woulds not be lettinks me nears de house after I turns sevens-and-tens" Skwisgaar scoffed, the effect ruined by a huge yawn "Evens when Mormor Serveta dies" Skwisgaar recalled his grandmother with a lofty sigh. He really did miss his grandmother. His mother may have been named after her, but they were nothing alike. Her cottage was the first place Skwisgaar went when he was kicked out of the house, and she'd gladly taken her "älskling" in with open arms and a plate of cookies. Then he'd managed to find a job in the line of music and left. He'd been planning his annual trip back to see her when she suddenly died of a heart attack. Skwisgaar's mother had ignored him completely at the funeral.

"Familiesh shhould be illegal" Murderface shook his head in disgust, spitting something slimy and yellow into the sink.

"Ja" Skwisgaar agreed, a small smile on his lips.

"When ams Nat'ans beink goes?" Toki asked, slurping up the milk out of his third bowl of cereal.

"Dis nights" Skwisgaar replied.

"In about an hour" Hamilton corrected.

"I's meansink where" Toki corrected himself.

"Oh. Back homes"

"To Flyink-dums?"

"Ja, backs to Floor-ee-dum"

"It's FLOOR-IH-DUH" Hamilton snapped, abnormally irate.

"Well excuses me" Skwisgaar sneered, flipping him off "Why ams so lobsterink, Hamellinktons?"

"You mean crabby. I'm just pissed because I just don't understand why TNT keeps goin' back to his fuckin' parents' house. His mom over-babies him, and his dad couldn't care less about him"

"Famsilies ams nice" Toki had recently started to try to engage into conversation (mostly unsuccessfully).

"Tokis…" Skwisgaar's tone warned him to stop talking now.

"Oh yeah, your parents died. Sorry, Slugger" Hamilton smiled sadly, clapping Toki heavily on the shoulder. Toki stared back at him incredulously.

"Mor ands Far nots beink dies" Hamilton's eyes darted to Skwisgaar accusingly.

"Oh _really_?"

* * *

"What'd ya wanna talk about, Nate" Pickles quietly shut the door behind them. Nathan's back was to him.

"I wouldn't leave if I didn't have to" he said.

"I know dat…" Pickles sat on the bed in front of Nathan, looking way up to catch his eye.

"Are you guhn… are you gonna be, like, okay?" Nathan sighed in frustration. Pickles ran a hand though his hair, though the comforting feeling it usually brought him was somewhat lessened by the lack of hair.

"Well, yeah. I think I can cope fer a bit…. But um…" Pickles wavered, looking off to the side.

"But…?"

"Well, uh, never mahind. Have fu… Well, no, don' have fun, but, uh… Just… be cool, 'kay, Nate?" Pickles winked with a sloppy grin.

"Alright" he held out his knuckles and Pickles reached up to tap them with his own "But only if you are too" he pulled Pickles up to his feet.

"Send me a postcard or somethin'" Pickles punched him on the shoulder.

"Okay" Nathan muttered.

"Make sure to tell yer mahm I sed hi"

"Okay"

"Drink an extra beer fer me"

"I will" Nathan turned his head away from Pickles.

"It's okay ta be sad, Nate" Pickles smirked.

"I know" he picked Pickles up off the ground in a bone-crushing bear-hug.

* * *

"So, your parents are NOT dead?" Hamilton cocked an eyebrow at Toki. Toki shook his head, getting up to fill his bowl again.

"Nej, mor og far ams live" he reached up to get the Cocoa-Puffs off the top of the fridge.

"So… what are your parents like? You never really talk about yourself"

"Um… Mor og Far ams… ams…" Toki flinched, putting the cereal back "Dey ams…"

"Dey ams dead" Skwisgaar interrupted, shooting Toki a glare. He didn't seem to catch the hint.

"Dey ams veries relg-knee-nous" Toki pulled a cross out from under his shirt "Deys veries stuct. I's in trouble all time forevers" he winced again "Ams all"

"Oh. So where'd you live again?"

"Lillehammer, ams in Norge"

"Norway, right?" Hamilton directed his question at a fuming Skwisgaar. He received no answer.

"Ja…" Toki muttered "Can ams we be stoppink talks boat dem?"

"Oh… uh, sure" Hamilton replied "You wanna tell me about where you went to school?"

"What ams school?" Toki cocked his head. Hamilton dropped his jaw.

"Dude, school. Like where you go and there's a teacher and you learn stuff"

"You means Choich?"

"No, not Church. Sk-oo-lllll" Hamilton over-pronounced.

"I ams not knows!" Toki was on the verge of shouting.

"STOPS" Skwisgaar yelled over them "Hamellinktons, yous beink shuts up. Tokis, come with me" he grabbed Toki's wrist and pulled him into the bedroom.

"People in dish housh have ishhuesh" Murderface raised his eyebrows.

"Tell me about it" Hamilton shook his head.

"Vi kom överens om att inte berätta för killarna om ditt liv i Norge! _Vad tänker du på_? De hatar redan mig för att ta dig i, men om de får veta att dina föräldrar var galna religiösa freaks, så de ska få alla paranoida och tar dig ifrån mig!" Skwisgaar could be heard yelling from the other room.

"Jeezsh, here it comesh" Murderface put his head in his hands.

* * *

"TOKI" Skwisgaar hissed, slamming the door "_We agreed not to tell these guys about your life in Norway! _What are you thinking_? They already hate me for taking you in, but if they find out that your parents were crazy religious freaks, then they'll get all paranoid and take you away from me_!"

"_You LIED, Skwisgaar! You said that mom and dad were dead! If you lie you go to HELL. I don't wanna go to heaven without you_" Toki yelled back. Skwisgaar almost didn't yell back because he was so touched at the last comment. But he held fast.

"_I don't CARE. Everything you parents told you isn't true! They were so… so… just so terrible to you! Why do you even respect them_?" he crossed his arms tightly to stop himself from shaking Toki by the shoulders

"_They weren't… they_" Toki stuttered feebly.

"_Stop lying to yourself Toki_" Skwisgaar scoffed "_I'm the only person in this whole world who likes you at ALL_. _And a stunt like that is going to make sure you never get to see me again_"

"_Why would they send me away if they found out my parents were so religious_?"

"_They will think that your mom and dad would come and like murder us in our sleep to get you back_"

"_They don't love me that much. Plane tickets are expensive_"

_"I don't even think they love you at all_"

"_You don't know them! Don't say that_!" Toki clapped his hands over his ears. Skwisgaar rolled his eyes.

"_No one loves you, Toki. No one loves me either, so just relax. Sometimes people just have to get through life on their own_" Skwisgaar patted Toki on the shoulder comfortingly, sitting him down on the bed. When Toki looked up, his lower lip was trembling. "_Let's just go say bye to Nat'ans and forget you even said anything to Hammelinktons, okay_?" Toki nodded.

* * *

"Bye, Nathan" Murderface waved lazily from the door to the apartment. Nathan waved back.

"Bye guys" he smiled unhappily "Bye Pickles" he squeezed Pickles' shoulder before stepping onto the bus.

"Bye Nat'ans, we's beink misses yous!" Toki waved spastically with both arms "Sorries for hittinks you gen in de new of de year!"

"Whatever kid, stay out of trouble" he waved to Toki, almost forgiving him because he was so damn… innocent? He didn't know the word, but Toki made everyone feel like they had someone who looked up to them no matter what. The bus doors swung shut and Nathan lumbered down the isle with his suitcases, almost smacking into a woman holding a little girl. He took the seat in the other row next to it.

The little girl was staring at Nathan like he was the coolest thing she'd ever seen. "Mamma, look at how big that he is" she pointed at Nathan shamelessly. She couldn't have been older than three.

"Sweetie, it's not polite to point" she smiled awkwardly over to him.

"BIG BIG" she threw her stuffed bear at him.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry" the woman gasped.

"It's okay, she's little" Nathan grunted, handing back the bear.

"She's been so rude since her father and I split up. My name is Dana, by the way, and this is Kimberly" the lady smiled genially.

"That's rough. I'm Nathan" Nathan muttered, reaching over to shake Dana's hand. He didn't really want to talk to some random woman about her divorce and how bad her kid was behaving.

"The divorce isn't final, but it will be soon. We live in separate houses" she pulled a little bag of goldfish out for Kimberly.

"I see" Nathan leaned on his hand, trying to get her to notice his boredom by using body language.

"Anyway, sorry for taking up your time. Thank you for being so kind" she smiled again before pulling out a laptop and beginning to type diligently. Nathan rolled his eyes and adjusted his position to look out the window at the last glimpses of what had been his home for the last six months.

"Fuck you, LA" Nathan flipped off the window.

* * *

A/N

Sorry for the lack of updates~ I've been grounded D:

I bet you can guess who's ex-family that was :D  
Poor Pickles might fall apart without big, strong (sexy) Nathan to help him out D:


	14. Chapter 14

A/N

A'right every-guys... I generally hate to make you wait to read the story but I need to have my authors note before the story to defend my fangirly honor ahaha~  
**I may have accidentally shoved every single whiny-little-bitch-explosion-of-anger cliche from the fanfiction world into this chapter... oops.  
I'm busy and after this chapter I only have one written D: So be prepared for long waits~ Sorry D:  
And there is not enough NateXPickles fanfiction. Seriously I looked everywhere *sob*  
That is all~

* * *

"BYE NAT'ANS" Toki yelled after the bus, drawing the attention of a drug deal across the street. Skwisgaar ushered him inside quickly, glancing back every second or so to the big men with the coke.

"I'm gonna miss that fucker" Hamilton sighed, flopping down on the couch and turning on the TV.

"He's naht gahne FEREVER" Pickles snapped, throwing open the fridge to grab a bottle of beer.

"Settle down, Dill. I know" Hamilton's eyes widened in shock. Pickles yelled, but he was never snippy like that "But speakin' of him goin', I actually have to go live with my dad for a while if we want that money from him. I was gonna tell you this morning, but then TNT dropped that big ol' bomb. He says my moms miss me. Those dumb ladies aren't even my moms; they're just two sluts that helped raise me" Hamilton clicked his tongue in distaste "I'll still be helping with the rent, but I'll be about seven hours away in San Francisco…"

"Really, M? You're leaving, too?" Pickles' eyebrows were set in despair.

"Yeah, sorry Dill. I'll come down for a visit sometime soon, alright?"

"When do YOU leave?"

"In about a week"

"Okay… a week" Pickles sighed. The house sure would be empty with Hamilton and Nate gone.

"Nat'ans beink comes back, ja?" Toki asked the entire room.

"Of courshe, kid. Nathan alwaysh keepsh hish promishesh" Murderface assured, ruffling Toki's now shoulder-length hair.

"His Garnsmas beink dead, Tokis. It will be longs" Skwisgaar also rubbed his hair. Toki winced and sidestepped any more hair-messing. He pulled his fingers through it a few times.

"She's naht dead yet" Pickles grumbled, sinking down into the couch. It collapsed under his weight, sending both him and Hamilton down to the ground. "MOTHER DOUCHEBEAGS DE COUCH BROKE"

* * *

"Hey, Pickle! Skwisgaars og me ams doink de jobses now!" Toki peeked into Pickles' room. Pickles was lying in bed, awake, staring off into the distance. "PICKLE" Toki yelled again. Pickles continued staring ahead.

"Tokis, what ams goinks on in dem? Wes gots to be goinks now" Skwisgaar joined Toki in the doorway.

"Pickle ams …Pickle ams live?" he whispered.

"Ja, Pickle ams live" Skwisgaar jeered, marching up to Pickles. He snapped his fingers in his face and inspected the area around him. "Justs dis ams makinks him be zombie" he held up a syringe and waved it in Toki's face.

"Whats ams dis?" Toki took it in his hand, careful of the point. There was a small amount of blood in the bottom of the container and a drop on the needle.

"Ams bad, Tokis. You sees dis and you nots takes, ja?"

"Ja" Toki handed it back, a little panicky "Sure Pickle ams live?"

"Oh, Ja. He's be backs to old Pickle elf in no clock"

"Pickle elf" Toki repeated with a nod.

"Lets beink go" Skwisgaar shepherded him out the door "If wes late for workinks, we ams not haveink de jobs no longer"

Skwisgaar had allowed Toki to take a job only when one had become available at his work. The carwash employee Skwisgaar had been working with before had tragically died in a double-suicide-triple-homicide in which he'd killed his girlfriend's secret lover, she had killed his, and then a maid had walked in. Then the two committed suicide.

"_Beink rests ams pieces, Travis. You ams beink bad-looking in yours coffins wit dem holes in you, but it fine_" _Skwisgaar sneered into the coffin_.

Skwisgaar had attended the body viewing solely on his boss's orders. Wanting Toki to get the job, he obeyed. After the couch broke, Pickles had decided to try even harder at work (but his increased drug usage had made it seem as though he'd gotten a pay-reduction instead of a raise). It was painfully obvious that they didn't just need a new couch- they needed a new apartment and new attitudes. Hamilton had long since moved out to his dad's house, but not before giving them a gift of a cozy green polyester couch with foot-rests and reclining backs (not third or fifth-hand, but brand-spankin' new). Murderface was seldom seen these days. He was generally out on the town with some of his crazy friends or with some hooker outside of the house.

The only thing not allowed in the apartment was hookers (unless they cost over 400 bucks an hour- and only Hamilton had those- and only on his birthday) for everyone else's sake. They shared beds, so if you wanted to fuck up your own life with STDs that was one thing, but fucking up someone else's without having sex with them was another (when only one of them was home- they slept naked… as most dirty young men do).

"Okay, Tokis. We only haves half days of work todays, it ams Valerie-times days"

"Was valery-tines day?" Toki asked, tying his scraggly hair back. It seriously needed a trim or something- it wasn't just long, it was practically a rat's nest.

"Ams overs-ratinks, that's what" was all he got before they went out to begin washing cars.

* * *

Pickles was still in bed an hour later at 9:00 AM. He was staring off into space, focusing on the feeling of coming down off his high. He was too messed up say bye to Toki, but he had come around enough to function at the bare minimum now. His thoughts were struggling to focus on what was currently going on around him, but he couldn't decide what he was perceiving. He knew he was a lone and he knew that he was cold.

"Nnng" he groaned, moving his arm shakily up to his head to push his hair back. It had begun to fall into his eyes.

_Ding~Dong~._ His ears perked up at the sound of the bell. He scrambled (more like drug himself) out of bed as fast as he could (slowly) and checked to see if he had pants on. Old ratty jeans that might have belonged to Skwisgaar or Nathan at one point barely clung to his hips. Good enough. He made his way out of his room, though the living room and to the front door. He couldn't see strait still, the locks on the door were changing positions. He resisted the urge to throw up. Finally the deadbolt clicked out of place and Pickles got the door open. He blinked repeatedly in the harsh sunlight pouring into the dim room, trying to stop his head spinning and his knees buckling. He leaned on the doorframe. Why was he here? Oh. The bell rang. He squinted and tried to make out the figure standing in front of him.

"He… Hellooooo?" he sounded terrible, even he recognized that.

"Hey" Pickles looked up.

"Oh'is you, hows it goinn, doo-" he paused, bent over and puked all over the front porch and entry way.

"You got it on my shoes, Red"

"Sahhhryy Too…tony" Pickles snickered, leaning back onto the doorframe, clutching it like a lifeline. He spit off to the right on the sidewalk.

"Mind if I come in?"

"I don… I don seeya prollemwid.. widat" Pickles slurred, trying to remember why Tony was here.

"You're here..to…yurheretooo…" he squinted and Tony grabbed him before he could stumble into his own puke.

"Dude, you are _fucked up_. Just sit down" Tony kicked off his dirty boots and led Pickles over to the brand new couch. Pickles collapsed on it, laying his head on the armrest.

"Thanks, T" he muttered.

"Sure, dude" Tony sat next to him "So where's Nathan?" his eyes shifted around uncomfortably.

"He, uhhhh…he's goneta Flurrda tasee… tasee…" Pickles squeezed his eyes shut. Nathan was gone. He knew that, that's what he was so upset over. But WHY was Nate gone? "He won' be back fera lahhhhhngtahim" Pickles sighed, closing his eyes sleepily.

"Oh" Tony had realized it was futile to try and talk to Pickles right now about anything "…Red?" he looked down, but Pickles was out cold.

* * *

What was he lying on? It didn't feel like the soft, worn-down cotton of his sheets and it certainly didn't smell as bad as they did either. There was a distinct NEW smell to it. And there was something else familiar there. He sighed, soaking in the soft fabric and the comforting smells. Then he felt someone touch his shoulder tenderly.

His eyes shot open "Who's dere?" he was instantly into a sitting position. He winced as sunlight came scorching into his eyes from the single window by the front door. He rubbed them quickly, turning to look at the person sitting next to him. He just about screamed- but managed only a "WHAT DE HELL'RE YOU DOIN' HERE"

"You actually let me in" Tony was leaning on the other armrest, chin in his hand. Pickles glared sharply.

"Well get out, cuz I don't want ya in here" he pushed Tony's legs off the couch.

"Relax, I just came to talk. Just talk, nothing else" Tony held up his hands defensively. Pickles allowed himself to relax a little, leaning back against the couch.

"…Faihne, but you aughtta be careful wit whatchya say this tahime, I aint gaht Nat'an ta stahp me from doin' somethin' drahstic" Pickles crossed his arms.

"Where is Nathan, by the way?" Tony inquired, taking his hat off to scratch his head.

"He…" Pickles paused and took a deep breath "he's, uh, gahne. He won't be back fer a lahhhng tahime"

"Did he die?" Tony was almost nonchalant about it.

"No, he didn't die!" Pickles snapped, glaring daggers "His grandma's gonna, though. Hamilton left me too" his eyes shifted down to his lap in that way people hate. The slight furrowing of the eyebrows, the barely noticeable biting of the lip. It makes you feel just as awkward and sad as the person who does it.

"That… that sucks, man" Tony cleared his throat, not sure how to proceed. Pickles was always difficult to deal with. Neurotic, irritable, and _Irish_. From time to time he entertained the thought of Pickles needing a warning label. The silence that was beginning to fill the room had substance, and Pickles began to choke on it.

"Why da fuck did ya come back?" he asked it so quietly Tony wasn't sure of what he'd heard.

"It was irrational" Tony admitted, leaning back comfortably "But I guess I just… I just felt so bad, I hadta come back to ya, Red" his lips twitched into a somber smile.

"I don't wanna hear it" Pickles sighed, burying his face in his hands "You should just leave, I don't need you right now".

"I've heard that one before" Tony chuckled, punching Pickles gently in the arm.

* * *

_ "Pickles…?" there was a soft knock on the door. Pickles buried his head deeper into his arms and knees, trying to hide his face from the world. "It'll all be alright, Pickles" Tony crept up to the bed and put a hand softly on his shoulder._

_ "No it won't" Pickles' sobbing was heart-wrenching. "Ah've been fahine fer a year now and … and it's just all comin' to me now! It's never gonna be okeey! I'm gonna die alone in da street and den no ones ever gonna fahind me. I'm no good! I belahng in a garbage can!" he curled up tighter, almost hurting himself with the force._

_ "Don't say that…" Tony muttered soothingly, slowly stroking Pickles' shaggy orange mess of hair._

_ "I'll say it if I wanna! Go away, Tony. I don't need you right now"_

_ "You got me whether you want me or not, so you aint gonna die alone. And you don't belong in a garbage can, you belong right here with me and Sammy and Bullets. We can't go on without our teenage wonder singer" he chuckled and pulled Pickles into a sitting position._

_ "Ah'm jus' seventeen, Tony. I aint sposed ta be out ahn my own" he wiped his eyes, wincing as the glitter and eyeliner that was so new and fascinating and 'glam' ran into his eyes._

_ "And I'm just nineteen" Tony shrugged "We gotta stick together, man"_

_ "Whatever" Pickles sniffed, using his shirt to mop up the running fluorescent makeup. Tony grabbed the edge of the sheet and took over, tenderly dabbing under his eyes, uncovering the freckles on his cheeks_

_ "I promise that you'll always have me" Tony added, kissing Pickles' forehead._

_ "Of _course_ I will" Pickles scoffed, pushing him away, laughing despite himself._

_

* * *

_

"You left me" Pickles stated simply "Dat's a little less den ferever"

"Nobody's perfect" Tony defended a little scornfully.

"Especially you" Pickles responded sourly.

"I just… I think we could fix this" he wrung his hands nervously.

"Not even alla da ducttape in da world could fix dis now, T" Pickles shook his head desolately.

"I still think-"

"PIIIIIIIICKLE" Toki called, slamming open the door "Skwisgaars and Tokis ams frontink from de worksink places, we gots off earlies with da candies!" he bounded into the living room, a little pink Beanie Baby stuffed under his arm "Ams Valerie-Tines… Tall hat man?" Toki cocked his head innocently, looking from Pickles to Tony repeatedly.

"You know Tony?" Pickles asked, looking accusingly at Tony.

"Oh ja, hes comink heres. I thought he ams Pizza. Told him you ams de drums, but hims are nots ams hear" Toki rattled on, handing the bear to Pickles.

"Not understandink" Skwisgaar corrected, throwing the keys and bags of pink candy (bought for Toki) on the counter.

"I thought the kid had my message! I was just telling him to tell Pickles that I came by…"

"Oh hes not speaks well Ammery-canes" Skwisgaar explained "he ams Norske"

"Like, Scandanavian?"

"Sanmans? Nos, he ams NOR-SKE"

"Okay then…" Tony let it drop.

"Why ams tall-hat man here?" Toki asked pleasantly, sitting down in between Tony and Pickles on the couch.

"Well, kid" Tony rubbed the back of his neck "I'm here 'cause it's the big V-day, and Pickles 'n me had a bit of a fight, ya see"

"A bit?" Pickles scoffed. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Why ams you not nice beink?" Toki furrowed his eyebrows.

"Well Pickles was a little nosy and I was a little bit of a jerk. You don't need to worry about it, go play or something" Tony urged.

"I was naht NOSY" Pickles snapped.

"You kinda were" Tony disagreed.

"And you were more den a _little_ bit of a jerk" Pickles continued icily.

"You always blame me" Tony growled "You can be at fault too, you know"

"Oh! I ahlways blame you? I don't think so" Pickles scowled.

"What ams goink ons?" Toki asked, peering worriedly from Pickles to Tony.

"Stay outta dis, Toki" Pickles warned.

"Don't yell at him, he just cares!" Tony stiffened "You can stay here, kid, it's fine"

"NO. Toki, go awey! So he cares jus' like I cared, right?" Pickles scoffed "You don't seem ta see dat I didn't do anythin' wrahng here!"

"Pickles, you could have gotten both of us killed. What _isn't _wrong about that?"

"I's… goink" Toki started to slide off the couch awkwardly.

"STAY" Tony barked.

"No, GO!" Pickles yelled back.

"Hey, leaved Tokis outs of dis!" Skwisgaar snapped, pulling Toki away from them "he ams nots even parts of dis"

"GAHD! You're all against me!" Pickles shouted, standing bolt upright.

"Whoaaa, chill" Tony raised his hands in defense.

"Ahm done. Ahm done, ahm done, ahm done. I can't take it! Da kid don't speak English and's _cahnstantly_ buggin' me, Nate and Magnus left me in da fuckin' dust, Will ain't ever here, Skwisgaar ain't even my friend, and YOU" Pickles pointed at Tony violently "have made me wanna DIE every day fer da last few months. I've had it. I've _fucking_ HAD it. I'm gahne, if Nate comes back tell him ta fuck himself hard with somethin' sharp" Pickles stormed into his room, grabbed a duffle bag, and started throwing cash and clothes into it.

"Pickles, you know running away doesn't solve anything!" Tony implored "Just stay here; I'm sorry! I don't know what half of this stuff you're talking about is! Who's Magnus?"

"Shut up!" Pickles snarled "Ah've had enougha life, I'm gahne" he zipped up the bag violently, breaking it and sending the zipper flying off into the wall. Everyone winced.

"Pickles… I'm sorry I yelled! Please just stay we can fix th-" Tony was cut off by a lamp being thrown at his head.

"Doesn't feel too great when da tables are turned, does it?" Pickles sent the shade at Tony next, hitting his target this time.

"Pickle ams mad at Tokis?" Toki asked, watching Pickles rush around the house, gathering hidden stashes of various drugs.

"I thought you were off that" Tony muttered, watching Pickles stuff a baggy of powder into his bag. Pickles sneered, but otherwise ignored everyone, heading towards the door.

"Pickle!" Toki tried again, catching the end of Pickles' shirt. Pickles wheeled around and smashed his fist into him.

"GO _AWEY_" he shouted. Toki froze in place, slowly lifting a hand to his face. His trembling hand stroked the now red fist-shaped mark on his face. Skwisgaar and Tony gaped at Pickles as he continued moving about the apartment busily until he had everything. Without so much as a backward glance he stalked over to the door, opened it, stepped out, and slammed it shut hard enough to crumble off a bit of the wall.

"Tokis…?" Skwisgaar asked. Toki was sitting still in the same spot, his eyes staring off into space.

"Is he okay?" Tony asked curiously, peering over the back of the couch. Skwisgaar shot him his iciest glare.

"OUT" he hollered, jabbing a finger at the door. Tony stood slowly and followed Pickles' path out, leaving only his cigarette butts and a broken lamp behind.

* * *

A/N TWO~::..

Writing this made me feel like a horrible person. I also tried to add some much needed Metalocalypse-style comic relief into it with the triple homicide double suicide thing thing unsuccesfully :P

Reviews make me happy even if they bash me~


	15. Chapter 15

"Tokis…" Skwisgaar bent down to Toki's eyelevel. Toki's eyes were welling up with tears, but his face showed no signs of emotion. It was almost eerie the way his eyes were staring unwaveringly ahead. "Yous ams freaksing me outs" Skwisgaar put a hand on his face, eyes darting from Toki's left eye to his right, searching for movement. "_Toki, snap out of it! What's wrong_?"

"Jeg… Jeg…" Toki managed to spit out before bursting into hysterics. Skwisgaar shushed him and pulled him down to sit on the couch.

"_It's okay, Tokis. Pickle is just… going through a tough time_" Skwisgaar lied as best he could, trying to stop Toki's sobbing.

"_Wait_…_Toki_s… _We've got to go_" Skwisgaar gasped as the rationale of the situation they were just thrown into dawned upon him. Pickles, Nathan, Hamilton, and (partly) Murderface were gone. There was no way in hell they could stay by themselves.

"_Whats_!" Toki stopped his blubbering immediately, this shock of leaving home _again_ outweighing his childhood trauma for a moment.

"_We can't afford to live here with everyone else gone; we have to go somewhere else. If the landlady catches us here when rent is due, we're screwed_" Skwisgaar let go of Toki and ran into his room, throwing everything he owned (save for his explorer in its case) into a huge black duffle bag. He'd never bothered to unpack all of it from his trip.

Toki watched as Skwisgaar frantically paced around the small collection of rooms, throwing open drawers and flipping over piles of random objects Pickles had made in his departure. By the end of Skwisgaar's raid, all that remained unscathed was the kitchen. Toki was sitting on the counter, his legs dangling off the edge idly. He looked up at Skwisgaar with watery eyes.

"_Will we ever see Nata'ns and Pickle and Hammelinkton and Moidaface again_?" he asked pitifully.

"_I don't know. Most likely not, they kind of just screwed us over_" Skwisgaar grimaced, swinging his guitar and duffel bag over his back and tossing Toki his backpack. Toki caught it and hopped off the counter. Skwisgaar opened the door, letting the late afternoon sun stream into the dingy, wrecked apartment. Toki sighed and turned to take in the details of the apartment one last time. He shook his head disdainfully and put his backpack on, not bothering to check if everything was there.

"Byes, home" Toki waved, trotting down the front step after Skwisgaar.

"Was never homes" Skwisgaar scoffed.

"But…" Toki shut his mouth, deciding Skwisgaar was not in the mood to argue right now.

* * *

"Alright, alright, Mom!" Nathan shouted, pulling at the ends of his hair "I fucking GET it! I'll go take the flowers to Granny in a minute! I need to call Pickles!" he slammed his bedroom door and pulled the phone off the charger violently, feeling a lot like he did when he was sixteen.

He hadn't called Pickles since he left; his life had been far too hectic for that. Grandma Gertrude's immanent death had brought on family like a swarm of southern bees. Hicks and Native Americans were all shoved into the house like a weird rendition of very early southern America. The realization of how long it had been since he'd spoken to Pickles (two moths since they'd said good bye- and a month since the last phone call) had practically given him a heart-attack earlier in the day, and he'd just now been able to escape. He took a deep breath before punching in the numbers of Pickles' cell phone. As it rang his heart rate picked up speed as he thought of all the ways Pickles knew how to destroy himself.

"Hello?" it wasn't Pickles who answered.

"Magnus?" Nathan asked, dumbfounded.

"TNT?" Hamilton replied, equally as shocked.

"Dude, I thought you left. Why are you answering Pickles' phone?" There was a long silence on the other end.

"Uhh… Nathan? I came by the apartment to check up on Dill, Twiggy, Will, and Slugger, but… the place is deserted"

"What?" Nathan's heart sped up even more and skipped a beat.

"All the drugs are gone, and only the few things you left are still here.

"Dear God…" Nathan hung his head, a million scenarios playing through his head at warp speed, each worse than the last.

"Well… there is a note from Will" Hamilton cleared his throat "It says:  
"I moved out cuz I came back and it's all messed up in here and shit. No one was here and you fuckers didn't answer my calls.

Don't bother looking for me, I'm not worth anything anyway

...It's dated almost two weeks ago. Have you talked to anyone since then?"

"No… I haven't" Nathan realized he was shaking.

"Don't freak, TNT. I'm sure Pickles and Skwisgaar are fine, they're all grown up, don't forget. Plus, Pickles has more street smarts than all of us combined. Plus this is Los Angeles, Pickles' natural habitat" Hamilton's voice was soothing.

"I know, I know!" Nathan snapped "it's not what _other_ people will do to him I'm worried about"

"Just chill. I'll get some guys on it. They'll look around for Pickles and Will, and see if they've heard anything about the Fabulous Europeans" Hamilton sighed and Nathan heard a door shut in the background. He assumed it was the apartment door.

"Please… just call me if you hear anything, anything at all" Nathan whispered.

"You can count on me, man." Hamilton chuckled lightly "Just go tend to your family, I got this one. Make sure not to tear yourself up about this. Bye" he hung up.

"Shit" Nathan slammed down the phone and buried his head in his hands.

* * *

Skwisgaar shut the heavy oak door gently, waving to the woman inside politely. He descended the quaint porch steps to meet up with Toki, who was waiting patiently at the clean sidewalk's edge like a pet. "Lets be goes, little Tokis" Skwisgaar beckoned ahead of himself.

"Skwisgaar, wheres ams we livink nows?" Toki asked, skipping over a large puddle in the road.

"Lasts week we lived at Holidays Inn. This weeks we lived in sleazy motels, and den we goes to Craig's and justs be leavinks. Nows we don'ts live nowheres" Skwisgaar shrugged, adjusting the strap of his guitar case.

"We shoulds go tos the Vegas!" Toki exclaimed, his face brightening.

"Las Vegses? Dats ams in Never-Dadas" Skwisgaar snorted "All way cross the counties"

"Countries!" Toki corrected. Skwisgaar raised his eyebrows, impressed despite himself.

"Goods, Toki. Ams all way cross the countries. We never gets dere with dis" he fished around in his pocket and brought out 100 bucks cash.

"How much ams dat?" Toki peered at the bills and coins much like small children stare at their first 'allowance'.

"Only enoughs to be gettink foods for two or tree weeks" Skwisgaar sighed and stuffed it all back into the back pocket of his newly washed jeans.

"Dats not a lots" Toki agreed with a nod. He pulled his back pack around to carry it like a baby and unzipped it. After a few moments of rummaging he pulled out a disheveled, ugly teddy bear with a crudely sewn on forked tail. He zipped his backpack back up and slung it around again so he could properly hold his toy.

"Whats de hells ams dat?" Skwisgaar scoffed. Toki grinned.

"Dis ams Deddy-Bears. I haves hims for a longs clock" he held the bear up to Skwisgaar "If you hugs him and loves him den you nevers be sad!" he shoved it into Skwisgaar's hand. Skwisgaar stopped walking in front of a blue townhouse to stare blankly down at the button-eyed monster. Toki continued on down the sidewalk until he came to a hopscotch board scribbled into the pavement. He skipped into all of the squares, turning a pirouette on 10 to face Skwisgaar. Skwisgaar was still staring at the stuffed animal in his hands, trying to figure it out. Something about it wasn't right.

"Toki… where ams you got dis?" Skwisgaar asked, holding up Deddy-Bear. Toki smiled at the mention of his favorite possession.

"He ams to remind me to be good! Mor ands Far buys it from choich. Ifs I nots be a good little Toki, dens I get bad in de eyes of God ands den I get eyes tore out, horns ands a tail. I's be sufferink for all of de times forever" he skipped back to 'one' jovially, seemingly unaware of the horrible thing he'd just confessed.

"Oh…" Skwisgaar sneered down at Deddy-Bear before relinquishing it to Toki "Dat ams one bad animals toy" he shivered.

"No! Deddy ams my favorite! He seeses over Toki ands dens I always ams good ands not gets deformed and suffer" he cradled Deddy-Bear tenderly as Skwisgaar continued to walk, trying not to look at the toy as they left Suburbia.

* * *

A/N

OMG SAM UPDATED :D:D:D  
Pickles is gone for good and now Nate knows D:... Yeah. This can't end well, especially with Toki and Skiwsgaar out on their own. (I have no idea where I'm going with this yet )


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey Granny" Nathan said quietly, standing awkwardly in the white hospital room.

"Nathan?" the woman asked, squinting to see her behemoth grandson six feet away.

"Yeah, it's me" he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling ill at ease. The room was in such a harsh contrast to his hair and clothes that he felt like he was wandering the bright halls of school again, feeling the gaze of every kid on his back.

"Come closer, sweetie. Granny can't hear you" she gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed. Nathan would never admit it, but of all the people in his family, he loved his grandmother the most. He obeyed her and sat as delicately as he could on the bed, being careful to step over the cords and tubes decorating the room.

"I have some flowers for you from all the family" he held out the roses nervously. Granny took the flowers with her shaking hands and smiled despite the fact that the stems were broken in half from Nathan's strong grip.

"They're lovely" she patted his cheek and he forced a smile.

"Yeah. Mom picked them out. She'll be here in a while" he avoided looking her in the eyes.

"Is something troubling you, Nathan" her piercing green eyes scanned him like a hawk, holding a fierce light even with her sickness. Nathan finally managed to meet them with his own, equally as green ones.

"Uh…" he cleared his throat. He was pretty sure his grandmother would have a heart attack if she ever found out that he hung out with suicidal, neurotic, druggies that disappear without an explanation after their _boyfriend_ breaks up with them. Hell, she'd have a heart attack if she found out he so much as knew what drugs were.

"You can tell me anything, you know" she seemed to read his mind. Despite the calm, assuring tone in her voice, Nathan stretched the truth.

"I have a friend. He… She… yeah, she. She, uh… had this guy break up with her, right? So she got real upset and started… uh, gambling… a… lot" he cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at his grandmother "And he won't leave her alone and she… she disappeared. I don't know if she did something drastic or, like, was kidnapped or… something" he sighed heavily, thankful he could stop making lies up now.

"Well that's not good, dear" she frowned "What's this young woman's name?"

"Her… name?" Nathan's voice rose up an octave and he had to clear his throat again "It's Dill…lilha. Yeah. Her name's Delilah" he would remind himself to thank Hamilton for nicknaming Pickles later.

"It sounds like you care for Delilah an awful lot. Where'd she disappear?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh" Nathan mumbled. His grandmother didn't know he'd been in LA for the last six months to live with band members. She thought he had been in Wisconsin living with his long-term girlfriend, Brittany, on a farm. Nathan rubbed his forehead angrily, wondering why his mother didn't want his grandmother to know he was in a band.

"Well, dear?" his grandmother was getting suspicious.

"She lived next door to us in North Dakota- I mean Wisconsin!… shit.- I mean darn- I mean" he stuttered frantically. His grandmother put her hand over his.

"You haven't been quite honest with me" she said bluntly.

"Um… no ma'am" he muttered.

"I think it's time you start, young man"

* * *

"SKWISGAAR?" Toki called, peering around the wall. There were two women sitting on a couch smoking, but no Skwisgaar.

"Yous lookin' for someones?" one woman asked in a heavy accent similar to Skwisgaar's that made her difficult to understand.

"Um… yes" Toki squeaked "Ams be lookinks for Skiwsgaars. Ams dis tall" he held his hand about a foot over his head "Ams blonde and has de blue eye"

"Dat ams every guys here" the other woman spoke up with a chuckle.

"Oh…" Toki pouted dejectedly.

"Why don't's you be sittink here wit us?" the first woman smiled genially, her blonde curls bouncing as she leaned forward to beckon him over. Toki smiled back, happily going to sit with them.

"So what ams your names?" the second woman asked, scooting to the left to make room. Toki plopped down. It was a tight fit, the couch was only meant for two.

"I's ams beink the Toki!" he declared pleasantly, looking from one woman to another.

"Toki? Dat ams cute name. I ams Freja, dis ams Kelda" the blonde spoke.

"Tak" he nodded "nice to be meetinks you"

"So why ams you here wit dis Skwisgaar?" Kelda asked curiously, leaning back on the arm of the sofa and crossing her legs.

"Oh he ams watchink over de Tokis" Toki grinned "he ams my bestest friend"

"Ohhh isn't dat sweets" Freja giggled, pinching Toki's cheek with a long red nail. Toki grimaced, but didn't make an attempt to stop her. Freja leaned back after what seemed like an eternity of cheek pinching, her pose now matching Kelda's. Toki shifted uncomfortable between the two women, feeling very self-conscious all of the sudden.

"Do you knows where I ams be findink de Skwisgaar?" he suddenly piped "We needs be goink cuz we gots to find house homes to be stays in"

"Oh…" Freja looked a little taken aback "Well, he ams in de back problemlies" she pointed down a hall. Toki started marching off but she caught his wrist "You ams not allowds back dere" she let go of his arm and he turned to shoot her a quizzical look.

"Why?" he asked bluntly.

"Because he ams veries busy guy" Kelda rolled her eyes "You ams not knowink what dis places ams?"

"…nej…." Toki answered slowly.

"You ams knowink goils and guyses doink for de fun right?"

"Ja, dey hugses and kisses and plays de Canastas" Toki answered with a grin. Kelda and Freja shared an awry look.

"Little Toki, we ams havink a lessons for you"

* * *

"Sorry again, Granny" Nathan mumbled, childishly looking down at his feet. His grandmother gave him a final pat on the hand with a soft smile.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Just do exactly as I told you this time, alright?" her frail hands were placed back in her lap "Good bye Nathan, I love you very, very much" she leaned back into her bed and closed her eyes for the afternoon's nap.

"Night, Granny… I-I love you too" Nathan smiled and let it fade quickly. He wouldn't be seeing her again.

His heavy boots carried him down the hall past what seemed like a million rooms and thousands of white lab coats. The smell of medicine and over-cleanliness clung to him even as he emerged out into the late afternoon sun, only increasing the nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He located his car and started it up- with some difficulty- and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Exactly as she said" he took a deep breath, reminding himself that this was going to work out just fine. Slowly he pulled out into the traffic and headed North, away from home.

"It'll work" he mumbled, flooring the pedal.

* * *

"Tokis!" Skwisgaar exclaimed when he saw the little Norwegian sitting all by himself on a bench "I's be lookinks everywheres for you" he offered out a hand to help Toki up. Toki looked at it and froze, his eyes traveling from Skwisgaar to Freja and Kelda, who had moved down the hall to chat with a group of men loitering near the entrance to "the back".

"Hellos, Skwisgaar" Toki's voice cracked painfully.

"Tokis, what ams goink on?" Skwisgaar was half way between worried and impatient.

"I's just be talkinks to de Freja og Kelda" Toki fumbled with the hem of his already worn out t-shirt "Deys told me tings dat freakds me out" he sighed heavily.

"Like whats?" Skwisgaar snorted.

"Abouts whats guys do wit goils for de funs" Toki stated matter-of-factly. Skwisgaar choked on nothing.

"Whats?" his voice cracked this time, unlike it had since he was 15.

"Ja. Dey teaches me everytinks" Toki made a face "It mades sense I guess, but dens it was alsos gross"

"You didn'ts be knowinks alreadies?"! Skwisgaar exclaimed, drawing stares from the group a few feet away.

"No" Toki shrugged.

"But dat goil at de news of de year party…"

"Ja, Courtney? She ams nice goil. Gots good legs for de babies"

"Ja, ja. Courtsney. I thoughts you and her was..."

"Nos. I didn'ts know whats was goink on so I asksed her and she freakeds out. Den I gots sick from de drinks"

"Good Gods" Skwisgaar smacked his forehead hopelessly "We betters be goink Tokis, gos to get your tings"

"Ja, ja. Sorries Skwisgaar" Toki pulled himself up and snatched his bags from the floor.

"Sos… you reallies didn'ts be know?" Skwisgaar asked as they exited into the fading light of late afternoon. Toki took a moment to answer, but eventually nodded.

"Ja. I's beinks sheltered as you be knows" he grimaced, feeling very accused and belittled.

"I guess sos" Skwisgaar shrugged, adjusting the strap of his guitar case absentmindedly.

"Sos…. How manies goils have yous sex wit?" Toki asked casually.

"This weeks or todays?" Skwisgaar snickered.

"…Sos I takes it to bes manies"

"Ja. Veries manies. I ams kings of 'gettinks layed'" Skwisgaar's amused grin was replaced by a triumphant smirk and he shot himself a sly look in a shop window as they passed. Toki cocked an eyebrow. The cockiness was new.

"How manies men haves yous sex wit?" it was meant to be funny, but it came out as a way to bring Skwisgaar down off his high horse.

"…" it was dead silent for a long time until Skwisgaar managed to take a long, deep breath "Whats kinds of qweshtuns ams dat?" he grimaced.

"Wells you ams pretty likes a goil, sos I assumes…." Toki trailed off, looking up at Skwisgaar through the corner of his eye. Skwisgaar was glowering sourly, an almost childish look of contempt plastered to his face. Toki stifled a snicker. "Sos what ams de answers?"

"De answers ams NONE" Skwisgaar snapped. Toki held up his hands defensively.

"No needs for de snaps" he replied levelheadedly.

"Dere ams every needs! Yous gettinks funny wit mes. I likeds de old, innocents Toki betters. You was less mean ands stupid"

"I ams not stupids!" Toki raised his voice.

"Yous useds to bes so ncie and shys and den you gets out of seashell and acsts so tough! You haves no rights to be askinks me dat qweshtuns!"

"FREES COUNTRIES" Toki yelled back, clutching his backpack straps and leaning forward like a child.

"NOTS FOR YOU, YOU AMS NOT AMMERY-CANES" Skwisgaar shouted back. They both glared harshly at one another, a vicious light shining in both of their eyes. They would have started throwing punches if not for the fact that they'd reached where Skwisgaar had been leading them.

"Anothers hotels?" Toki scoffed.

"Yous gots a betters place, smarts ass?" Skwisgaar sneered. Toki was silent. "Thoughts not"

* * *

A/N I have a few more parts, but I've been fiddling with this one and them for a while, trying to erase all the HUGE GAPING plot-holes XD I just finished this one today, and I'm mostly done witht the next one, but I'm keeping this next part until I make sure nothing in later chapters will screw it up.

But seriously, things get awesome from here on out oWo


	17. Chapter 17

Hamilton scratched his head angrily, trying to channel as much irritation into his voice as possible "LOOK. I SAID I don't CARE if you need to do that. What you need to do is fuckin' listen to me so you can keep your mother fuckin' JOB. You WILL get me this man if it's the last fuckin' thing you do, GOT it?" he snarled. The man on the other line answered feebly. "HIS NAME? You forgot his fuckin' NAME?" he took three long, slow breaths before trying to speak again "He goes by Pickles but his actual name is-" Hamilton was cut off by a loud screech outside of his window "I'll call you back, Giovanni". He clicked End and slammed the phone down, rushing to the nearest window.

There were two long tire marks stretching form the road into the hotel parking lot. A beat up old Chrysler was parked in three spaces, sideways. An imposing, all black figure slammed open the door, denting a Mustang parked nearby. Hamilton cocked an eyebrow, thinking the top of this person's head looked familiar. The way he walked, the car…

"Nathan?" Hamilton muttered to himself, walking over to the door quickly. He practically sprinted to the elevator and mashed at the button until the elevator lined up with the "9". He tapped his foot impatiently, wishing that classical music calmed him like it did other people. If Nathan was here, something had happened. Something not-good. The elevator finally dinged and he leapt out, almost crashing into Nathan, who was reaching out to press the up button.

"Magnus" Nathan looked terrible.

"TNT?" Hamilton grasped his shoulders, looking him up and down, searching for any physical problems.

"Fuckin' stop that" Nathan swatted him off angrily "What's the deal on Pickles?" his eyes were desperate.

"I tried callin' you but your mom said that you went missin'… I figured you were just off blowing off some steam"

"Well now you know where I am. Where is _Pickles_?"

"We haven't found him, but we did hear about him" Hamilton seemed pleased with himself. "it turns out that that Tony guy Pickles used to be real tight with is closely connected to my father's, uh, organization" Hamilton cleared his throat, glancing anxiously at the clerk at the hotel's front desk "by family. The DiMarcos have been very close with us for a long time"

"Hamilton doesn't sound very Italian" Nathan grunted, amused despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Shut up. Explosion doesn't even sound like a real last name. AS I was saying… Antonio told us how the apartment was wrecked, but he left out a lot of details, saying it had something to do with people a lot higher up"

"I fuckin' hate that guy" Nathan subconsciously cracked his knuckles.

"He said that he was over talking to Pickles about something and Pickles had a, quote, "complete motherfuckin breakdown", unquote, and stormed out the door. Apparently he's started doing heroin again, so we're looking around that scene. So far we haven't been able to track any hotel stays… buuut" Hamilton sifted through his jacket pockets. He pulled out a large piece of cloth "We found a bandanna in one of his favorite bars"

"Jeez" Nathan snatched the bandanna, looking it over. There was no way to tell whose it was.

"S'the best we can do for now" Hamilton shrugged and sighed sadly "Now come on upstairs, you look like roadkill"

"Haven't been sleeping… at all. I just hope he isn't dead" Nathan stepped into the idling elevator after Hamilton, rubbing his purple-rimmed eyes.

"Oh he isn't dead, believe me" Hamilton returned brightly. He pressed the button for his floor and the elevator began to ascend. "My dad's big guy in LA, Armando Rossi, keeps track of every single dead body found. And if Pickles was dead, Armando would know it" Hamilton skewed his face "Now lets talk about something else. I know you're freaked out, but Dill is my friend too, and this conversation is getting me on edge"

"Fine. So do you, like, speak Italian?" Nathan stepped out of the elevator.

"Duh. I was born in Italy, remember?" Hamilton rolled his eyes and led Nathan down the hall to his room.

"Oh, yeah, I guess… So what exactly does this Tony guy do in your little organization?" Nathan asked, feigning casualty, watching Hamilton's back as he unlocked the room.

"Oh, Antonio is a pretty low-key guy as far as the whole operation goes, but he's a big deal in the drug part. He's responsible for a lot of big names' coke" the door finally decided the key was the right one and opened, exposing a lavish, bright, and very large hotel room.

"I see" Nathan would have to remember to tell Pickles all of this later.

"Want a drink?" Hamilton offered Nate a short glass of amber liquid. He shrugged.

"I guess so" and downed it. Hamilton rolled his eyes.

"Take it easy, that shit's expensive" he settled onto the bright white couch, his scraggly appearance standing out painfully against it. Nathan sat down next to him and slouched down as far as he could, head resting in his hands.

"So… why'd you come here?" Hamilton asked. Nathan pursed his lips and sighed heavily.

"Grann… My grandmother got me to tell her everything- even some stuff I don't know yet myself. I fuckin' hate how she can do that. So she told me how to fix it" he smiled loftily.

"Oh" Hamilton nodded slowly.

"She told me very specifically how I can fix at least part of this situation"

"How? How on Earth could your grandma know how to get Pickles back?" Hamilton snapped. Nathan growled in response.

"Do NOT get like that with me, Magnus. My grandmother was- IS a great lady, and old people just … _know_ things. They have super elderly powers or something"

"Fine" Hamilton sighed "What is this magical plan?"

"She said to go back here to LA, and just wait. Go on with life and he'll show up within a year"

"…a year?" Hamilton was on the verge of shrill.

"Yeah… Well there were more details to it than that, but whatever. Aren't you willing to wait that long?" Nathan hoped he was or he'd start feeling pretty awkward.

"Well… yes and no! I mean- Nathan, seriously!- he's prolly already shacked up in some drug infested sleazy part of LA where no one will ever find him!"

"I beg to fuckin' differ. I will find Pickles" Nathan stood and Hamilton stood to match him, but shrank back a little when he remembered that Nathan was a quite a bit taller than him.

"If you want my help with this, you best stop being so shitty to me, Nathan" Hamilton's eyes sparked. Nathan narrowed his own and turned sharply, headed for the door. He turned back for a moment when he reached it

"Okay I'm pissed right now- but I will see you tomorrow" and then left.

* * *

"Oh Jesus it's gonna be one of those days" Hamilton rolled out of his bed, hit his head on the nightstand, and stumbled towards the loud banging on his door. "NATHAN, DAMN IT" he shouted. The knocking ceased, replaced by an angry yell.

"LEMME IN, FUCKER" the next sound was a lot like a kick.

"Patience is a virtue!" Hamilton opened the door, sending an angry glare upwards to Nathan "I thought you were kidding about coming back"

"This is motherfuckin' _important_" Hamilton now noticed how Nathan was wringing his hands, a bruised cheekbone, and the series of cuts along his forearms.

"Well, do tell, TNT" Hamilton yawned and shut the door, nodding to the couch. They both sat.

"I, uh, did some information gathering on Pickles. Found some stuff out, possible, uh, places he could be"

"That's great! What's got you so worked up?" Hamilton leaned back and poured himself a small pick-me-up.

"Well, Magnus" he rubbed his neck nervously, glancing out the window "I may or may not have beat the living shit out of Tony DiMarco…"

* * *

A/N

In which we find out more about Hamilton and his mysterious daddy, and that asshole Tony gets what's coming to him *bow*.


	18. Chapter 18

Skwisgaar was leaning against the headboard, a cigarette in his hands and his guitar across his knees. Toki's head was resting a hand's breadth away and his hand was tenderly set on Skwisgaar's Explorer's body, his chest slowly rising and falling as he slept. Skwisgaar narrowed his eyes angrily, cursing Pickles, Nathan, and Hamilton all at the same time. He had been in big bands, moved out of his home before he even finished junior year of high school, and paid his dues at least four times over. Yet here he was 3 years and 15 bands later, in another crappy motel on the outskirts of Los Angeles... because of them. No money in his pocket, two mouths to feed, and no way to earn any more money unless he could find a place to stay.

Any of the places he'd be able to crash at for more than a day or so were drug-infested and not suitable for Toki. Toki. The kid was almost as old as Skwisgaar was when he left home, and yet he acted like he was four. There were reasons for it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for Skwisgaar to feel any sympathy for him, especially since he'd started 'growing up' in all the wrong ways. Skwisgaar's mind fluttered from one reason to another why he was staying with Toki.

There weren't many. Toki needed someone there, he didn't know English well, he was in a big dangerous city, and he was way too innocent and naive to be out on his own. But Skwisgaar had been (most) all of these things when he left. And Toki would stay this way unless someone taught him a lesson, as today proved. And who better to teach the kid a lesson than his best friend and care-giver?

He pursed his lips and put out his cigarette on the top of the nightstand. He pushed Toki's hand off the body of his Explorer and placed it gently on Deddy-Bear instead. There was a certain obligation on him to take care of Toki- he'd taken him from the streets into a home after all. But somehow the responsibility had managed to escape his list of reasons as he tore a sheet of tabs out of the big book in his bag. Flipping it over onto a semi-blank side, he began to write.

"Sorries Toki. _I just can't do this anymore_" he muttered as he placed the note under Deddy along with the rest of his money, a leftover candy bar from Valentine's Day, and a bus token. He ruffled Toki's now complete rat's nest, a gesture of love he rarely gave. Without looking back he grabbed his duffle bag, his guitar and case, and his jacket before walking out the door.

"Lycka till, grabben"

* * *

"…You did what?" Hamilton's voice was extremely calm. Nathan winced, having expected a yell.

"I… I beat the shit out of Tony. He was a dick anyway and- and I was just trying… I was just trying… uhg" Nathan planted his face into his hands "I'm gonna get shot, right?"

"I wouldn't be surprised" Hamilton sighed and massaged his head "So what did you find out about Pickles?"

"I got a few of the places he usually goes when he has one of his neurotic episodes" Nathan pulled a list out of his pocket. A small red smear was on the edge and the written addresses were scribbly and ran down the paper in a strange pattern.

"This paper makes it look like you killed him, man" Hamilton shook his head disdainfully.

"Naw, I just broke his nose… and maybe, _maybe,_ a tooth. Just one" he bit his lip, the childish expression puling a chuckle from Hamilton.

"Well, these addresses are scattered all around down and uptown LA. There are two on Sunset Strip, so we should hit those first. Then we can head back around the apartment, maybe he came back for something. Next we should hit these obscure places; they're most likely his dealers' places"

"Thanks for helping me out" Nathan muttered "Are you gone let me get shot?"

"…Nope. You'll stay solid if I can help it, Nathan" he clapped him on the back "… Nate?"

"Yeah?"

"If I'm going to help you I need the entire story. There's something not quite right about this entire situation"

"I told you everyth-"

"Don't bullshit me, Nate. You're leaving something out. Antonio DiMarco and Pickles being just good friends that had a falling out doesn't quite fit"

"Oh God. Dude, it's, uh, it's complicated" Nathan paled from his already ghostly color to a paper-white.

"Oh. I see" Hamilton nodded curtly "I'm going to need everything. What exactly was their relationship?"

"So I seriously need to spell it out? You seem to have it mostly figured out"

"Please spell it Nathan, I need to know the entire st-" he was cut off.

"They were fucking, alright? They were going steady, dating, seeing each other, 'going together'! They had been for a while, they… Uhg" Nathan's voice cracked "And that asshole just ruined Pickles, man. I thought that- I mean. Dude, I don't want to talk about this. Pickles tried so hard to keep it a secret- even from me- but then… Jeez" he buried his head in his hands

"O… Oh. Okay, uh, f…fair enough" Hamilton tried to remain calm "Pickles… he never told me"

"That's why I brought him home that one night all messed up. That's why he's been so suicidal and depressed. All because of that- that- that fuckin' asshole!"

"Alright, calm down Nathan" Hamilton put a hand on his shoulder. Nathan sighed angrily. "So where are you staying?" Hamilton asked.

"Um… nowhere" Nathan grimaced. Hamilton nodded.

"Alright, back you go" he gestured to the bedroom "You're about to fall over and we have a lot of work to do. I need to make a few phone calls and I'll wake you up in about four hours"

"Thanks…. And I can't believe you… you took that so much better than I did. I was nervous and awkward and it made me think about stuff I didn't even want-" Nathan was cut off by his own yawn. Hamilton smirked.

"Just go to bed, Nate. You seriously need it. I've got stuff covered, go take care of yourself"

"You're amazing, dude" he stretched and kicked off his boots outside the door.

"I know I am"

* * *

"Nnng" Toki rolled around for a moment, trying to figure out where he was. Slowly he cracked open his crusty eyes, rubbing them as he sat up. Something metallic clanked down onto the sheets. He looked around for Skwisgaar and then down. A sheet of tabs, 40 bucks, a Hershey bar, and a small coin sat in his lap along with Deddy. "Skwisgaar? Where ams you?" Toki called quietly, peeling himself away from the pile of stuff to search the bathroom. When his search proved fruitless, he wandered back over to the bed and picked up each item, inspecting it.

"Blacks Dog… Leds Zepplin?" Toki scanned over the sheet again and again, wondering why it was left for him. Finally he flipped it over to find Skwisgaar's crammed, loopy handwriting at the bottom after the tabs finished.

_Kära Toki,_

_Jag har varit din storebror / pappa för de senaste månaderna, men det är dags för mig att gå vidare. Du kommer aldrig växa upp om jag baby dig. Jag var inte babied, och titta på mig. Jag är en av de bästa gitarristerna i världen med cirka 300 kvinnor som vill ha mig! Jag gav dig alla pengar jag hade, så försök inte att hitta mig.  
Ha ett bra liv med många barn (kanske med Courtney?)_

_ Och låt Odin vaka över dig._

_Skwisgaar_

Toki didn't know whether to feel indignant, angry, or spiral into a depression. He was all alone again, he had nowhere to go, no one to go to…

_ "Have a good life with many children- perhaps with Courtney?"_ Toki sighed. Perhaps Courtney was a good place to go. She knew him; she liked him… and now he knew what she wanted.

* * *

Toki took a deep breath in the early April chill, reaching out towards the door. He hesitated for what seemed like the trillionth time before opting for the doorbell. He heard the echo inside and a dog barking. The bark was returned with a yell he recognized as Courtney's voice. He shivered in his short sleeves, glancing nervously around the dirty porch of the lower-middle-class house. An eerie black cat was staring at him from the grass below, its yellow eyes never even blinking. Toki was about to forget it all and high-tail it, but the door finally opened to reveal Courtney in her pajamas.

"Toki?" she asked.

"…Ja. Hi's Courtney" he waved awkwardly.

"I haven't seen you in forever!" she grinned and ushered him inside "I wondered why you'd stopped coming over"

"Wells… uh" he bit his lip "Wells, my friendses all goes away and I's been reallies busies tryink to finds de place tos live"

"Aw, you poor thing" Courtney pinched his cheek. He swatted her hand away. Her lips turned downwards.

"Sorries" he smiled sadly "Ams beink… touchy"

"I guess it's okay, hun. So you don't have a place to stay?" he shook his head. She looked him over piteously. It was pretty obvious by now that he had been out of a home for a while. "Well you can stay here. My mom won't mind, she's drunk of her ass and out at bars most of the time anyway. And Dad's off somewhere for the army" she rolled her eyes "But we don't have an extra bedroom"

"Reallies? Oh Tak!" he threw his arms around her tiny frame, smashing his face into her smooth red hair. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Yeah, yeah" she patted his back "Anything for my innocent little Toki" she teased, brushing her fist along his shoulder playfully. He looked off to the side.

"Abouts dat…" he sighed "I's sorries about not knowinks" she looked taken aback.

"Oh, Toki. You can't really control that" she brushed it off "Now let's go get some dinner in you, you must be-" she was cut off by a messy kiss. As they pulled apart, she gazed open-mouthed at Toki.

"I saids I knows now" he persisted.

"Oh… OH!" she exclaimed, and then smiled lustily "That is fantastic news, Toki"

* * *

A/N

It pisses me off when people say Toki made it to 26 as a virgin after being in the biggest rock band ever. Seriously.  
Also: NEWS FLASH

SKWISGAAR IS AN ASSHOLE, READ ALL ABOUT IT


	19. Chapter 19

Hamilton grabbed the phone and leaned back in his cushy office chair, eyeing the closed bedroom door warily. The last thing he needed was for Nathan to wake up. He punched a few buttons and held the phone to his head. There were exactly three rings before someone picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. DiMarco" Hamilton replied "How are you today?"

"Uh… fine, I guess. Who's calling?"

"It's Magnus Hamilton from Los Angeles and San Francisco. I'm calling about an incident that happened at your apartment in LA about a day ago"

"Oh, man, I can explain! This crazy guy that's friends with my ex… my ex-friend, Pickles… he came to my house and said something about him disappearing and started beating the shit out of me. Some of his questions got really personal and like, they had to do with our operations and-"

"Antonio, you're babbling" Hamilton cut him off. Tony was silent. "I know all I need to about what happened. You, apparently, do not. I know that a total of five people in the entire world know about your real relationship with Pickles. You were not just friends, Mr. DiMarco, and you'd do well not to lie to me again" he paused and head Tony swallow nervously in the background.

"Five…?" his voice wavered.

"Myself, you, Pickles, Nathan Explosion, and another person who's going to be dead any day now" he sighed "Now I'd appreciate it if you would tell me why Pickles is gone"

"I… he…." Tony sighed "Okay. I got inta some trouble, as you know, with a shipment of coke back around November last year. I came home ta Red- I mean Pickles, and he got real worried about me, 'cause I looked like shit, right? Well I told him not ta worry about it, but he went snoopin' around and found out that I had dealings with your father's organization. That's as far as he got. Then the next attempt was just as bad, and I came home beat ta hell again"

"I'm assuming he looked further?"

"Yeah. We had a huge fight, and everything that was ever wrong with 'us' came up- which is a lot, believe me- and we ended up getting physical. We trashed a hotel room and Nathan came in and broke it up. He literally had to carry Pickles away. I tried talkin' to Pickles about it again a few times, but he always got so upset and that damn Nathan was always there!"

"Where did you contact him?"

"Once at work and twice at his apartment. At work Nathan scared me off and the first time at the apartment some stupid kid named Toki answered and got the message screwed up. Then the second time was when Pickles left. We were talking and then the tall blonde and the little kid came back from work and somethin' just snapped in Pickles. He got all his stuff and ran off. I haven't seen or heard from him since"

"Okay. Now that I have the entire story, you need to listen to me. Listen very closely; write this down if you must. You are to get all of your stuff packed- anything you want to take with you, we'll have a van supplied. You are to get out of town. You'll be taken to New York where you'll be staying with my cousin Sergio. When you get off the plane, he'll be there to meet you"

"Why am I leaving?" Tony asked, sounding very surprised.

"You don't need to worry about that. Also, Antonio; do not ever speak to Pickles again. I swear that as long as I _live_, you will not see him again. Don't even talk about him… in fact, just pretend he doesn't exist"

"But I-"

"No buts. I'm in about the same position as Nathan is with you here; both him and Pickles are very close friends of mine. I also happen to be my father's son. So I suggest you just fuckin' do as I say" Hamilton's voice was overly calm, but it held an edge that sent shivers down Tony's spine. Typical mob big-shot.

"Alright then. When am I leaving?" he pursed his lips.

"Tomorrow"

"…_Tomorrow_?"

"Yes. And don't tell anyone where to or why you're leaving. A man will come to help you pack later tonight. Farewell" he hung up, cutting off Tony's next protest. He laced his hands over his stomach and leaned back heavily with a breathy sigh.

It felt good to be the boss.

* * *

"So Toki…" Courtney whispered in his ear "How was it…?" she leaned on his him, tracing circles on his boney chest. Toki smirked and wrapped an arm around her.

"Was pretties great akshully. Det føltes herlig, Courtney" he rolled his shoulders and pulled the purple blanket up higher.

"That's good" she smiled and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Sos cans we havink de nights-meal now?" he asked sheepishly. His stomach rumbled and Courtney laughed.

"Yeah, come on, sweetie" she got up, tossed on a t-shirt over her otherwise bare body, and walked off to the kitchen. Toki got up and popped his back, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He stared for a moment, looking his scraggly self over. He didn't feel high-and-mighty like Skwisgaar did, and he didn't look or feel any different.

"Stupids dildo" Toki rolled his eyes and pulled on his underwear.

* * *

LA's normally sunny skies were a dark grey. The rain was already beginning, even though it wasn't supposed to start until 10:00 (according to the weather channel- and, really, who believes them?). The steady drizzle was barely enough to piss off Nathan as he exited the loud bar. He jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his oversized bomber jacket. The coat still smelled like weed and spicy incense from when Pickles used to wear it during winter. But it was now late-April and everything was absolute shit, not even the comforting smell could change that. He was one step and one drink away from putting up wanted posters for Pickles.

"Why'd I have to go and leave?" he muttered. A week hitting the same damn places hadn't been helping his optimism levels on the Pickles situation. Every day he sat in the same places at the same times- hoping for even an inkling as to where Pickles had gone. His only lead had learned from his broken nose and skipped town, going off either to hang with the San Francisco division or maybe even overseas, Nathan couldn't recall- and didn't care. He lit a cigarette and looked up into the darkening skies- hoping to be anywhere but LA. He squinted into the cool sprinkle, thinking of Florida's sunny beaches. His grandmother was still alive, he could go back.

But she had said not to. She had known he'd want to.

"_Now Nathan. You're going to want to give up and come back to visit me. But you can't do that. Your little friend is important to you, and he could have a life. Mine is over, and you shouldn't worry about me"_

"Pfff" he shook his head in distaste, deciding that he would never live in LA again as long as he lived. It was home for nothing but trouble. His cell began to ring and he fumbled in his jacket for it, eventually finding it in his pants pocket.

"Hey, Nathan… it's Hamilton" he could hear the low thudding of huge speakers in the background. He took his time answering, letting out a breath of smoke.

"Yeah, I figured. What's u…" he trailed off, seeing a drug deal across the street. He was frozen in place, and he didn't know why.

"Nathan? Nathan, what's wrong?"

"I…nothing…" he cleared his throat "Thought I saw something is all" he shook his head.

"Oh… okay."

"So what did you need to tell me?" he ran a hand through his hair.

"I was just calling to ask if you found out anything else regarding Pickles"

"Well I'm here at that bar he used to work at that made him cut his hair, but that huge black guy hasn't heard from him. I'm heading over to that place on Sunset Strip he loved so much... the Rainbow, I think. Then I'm gonna go over to Heroin Alley to see if any of those lowlifes have heard from or seen our lowlife…" he breathed out a lungful of smoke again, watching it meld with the heavy mist setting in.

"Don't push yourself too hard, Nathan. He disappeared on purpose and obviously doesn't want to be found…. I don't even know why we're bothering to look for him anymore" Hamilton sounded just about as stressed as Nathan was.

"We're looking because I'm a paranoid fucker and want to make sure he isn't dead so I can kill him" he seethed silently.

"Nice, man" Hamilton chuckled "I just got done looking in the bar that's got his coke supplier living above it. No luck, apparently the guy's got a loyalty thing and wont tell me anything. I may have to bring some guys down and tell him exactly who he's dealing with"

"Yeah… I… I'm worried" he set his brow, slouching heavily.

"You keep saying that. I understand, please stop working yourself up, he's _fine_"

"You say that now. But he's started on the smack, man. Pickles was always so against it!"

"Well that old Mr. Brownstone's a real motherfucker" Hamilton snickered.

"That song sucks"

"Fuck you, it's amazing. Pickles went back to it because he hates himself and life. But he's not gonna die. I'm getting tired of comforting you man. Are you goin soft on me?"

"No" Nathan snapped "I'm allowed to have a pussy moment, cut me some slack. I've been friends with him since we were 19"

"And I've known him since we were 15. Just stop bitchin' and get some ground covered. I'll talk to you later" _click_.

"Ass" Nathan snapped into the dead line before shoving the cell back into his pocket.

* * *

A/N

I dare you to find all the Guns N' Roses references in this XD No, there's only two, but there are more throughout the story~  
On a slightly less obsession-fueled note, I used this chapter mainly as a channel for getting Tony to go away and to peek further into Hamilton's life. I love that he's a character we've never known about, so he was basically a blank canvas for me C;  
Also, if you catch the foreshadowing in this chapter I'll love you forever. HINT: it goes with all the other foreshadowing in the story, especially chapter 12 :D

Well this one's real short, but I uploaded it with the last one to make up for it. Uh... this is the last chapter I have written now. So I actually have to write for you guys to get updates now, so it'll take a lot longer. Sorry *huggles faithful viewers*


	20. Chapter 20

Nathan knocked on the door to the old building quietly, watching the streets for pedestrians and on-lookers. He heard quiet footsteps inside and a little window slid open at the top. He nodded at the man inside and the entire door swung inwards. Nathan stepped over the threshold, his boots sounding way-too-loud on the tile.

"What you here for this time?" asked the man who had opened the door; a short, emaciated, man around forty with long greasy grey-brown hair and a full mouth of disgustingly decomposed teeth.

"I need the heroin scene, Ben" Nathan muttered. The man nodded, leading him down the hall to a room that may have been a living room once. Strung-out, dirty junkies were scattered around the room. Nathan was put on the only couch in the room.

"Wait here" Ben instructed, slinking off through a door. Nathan felt so out of place every time he came here. Everyone there other than him was frail and jumpy, looking sick, but feeling just _great._ He thought of the condition Pickles must be in, both money and physical condition wise. Heroin was not cheap- as Nathan was learning- and it took its toll pretty fast.

"Heeeey man" a guy with a shaggy, bleach blonde, Kurt Cobain-esque haircut came to sit next to him "I didn't know you were into this shit"

"Why would you even-" Nathan choked on his words "I'll be damned. Vince?" Nathan's eyes widened in bewilderment at seeing his bassist.

"Yeah, it's me, man" the so-called Vince grinned sloppily "I haven't seen you in like foreeeever. Where ya been, Cyanide's been missin' ya" he punched Nathan in the arm "We started lookin' for a new singer"

"Well that's most likely best" Nathan forced a chuckle "I've had a lot happen to me. Granny's gonna die and that ginger drummer you met once went missing"

"Awww man" Vince shook his head and laughed "That suuuucks. What's yer granny got?"

"The big C" Nathan sighed.

"Awww that sucks double" Vince repeated "So what drummer are ya talking about? I don't remember a drummer…. And Carlos isn't ginger, he's like Mexican…"

"I know our drummer isn't ginger, Vince, I'm not blind" he rolled his eyes "And never mind, he's hard to forget. Maybe you didn't meet him"

"Oh, okay, gotchya. So, anyway, I didn't know you chased the dragon"

"Well I don't" Nathan shrugged "It's for a friend. I also didn't know you did it"

"Tom got me into it" Vince's smile was steadily getting wider as he talked.

"Tommy, really?" Nathan cocked an eyebrow. Last time he checked Tommy was a pretty clean guy.

"Guess it's true that the guitarists know the best drugs. Man, it's the best rush ever. Recently got into speed-balling. You sure you don't wanna taste?"

"Absolutely fucking positive" Nathan sent a dangerous glare straight into Vince's wide blue eyes. Vince backed off just as Ben came back with about two grams of white powder.

"Straight from the east coast. And also, to answer the question you're about to ask, no. No one ordered the same stuff this week" he handed it off and Nathan handed him the money. Nathan nodded and got up to leave.

"Heeey, I'm comin' with ya" Vince got up and followed Nathan out.

"Alright. Hey, man, you wanna grab drinks or something? I feel bad for just getting up and leaving like that without saying anything"

"That'd be great! So when you actually warned us you were taking a break, how'd it go?"

"…What do you mean?"

"Well you said you had a meeting with this guy about a record deal or something. I wanna say his name was Charlie"

"Oh… yeah. Charles Ofdensen. Real asswipe, never called us back. He did manage to make us get jobs and my ginger drummer friend cut all his hair off, though"

"Ouch" Vince chuckled. After a short walk they ducked into a seedy bar Vince had suggested and got seats right by the bartender.

"So what have you and the rest of Cyanide Spring Break been doing?" Nathan asked, gesturing for the bartender to pour them a couple of shots.

"Not much… well" he laughed "Uh, Zach knocked up his girlfriend… except it wasn't Zach, it was Carlos" Vince stopped laughing and cast his gaze downwards "And Zach kinda OD'd…"

"Shit, is he dead?" Nathan balked.

"Naw, he's still in the hospital though. He's in coma because he was actually dead for about nine minutes. He lost too much oxygen or somethin and just can't wake up"

"What'd he OD on?" Nathan downed his shot.

"…" Vince looked away.

"Dude, seriously. I'd love to know why my rhythm guitarist is in a coma"

"Heroin" Zach mumbled and Nathan barely caught what he said. Nathan's breath hitched.

"Is everyone fucking guy I know on that shit?" he growled.

"No…" Vince said thoughtfully "Carlos isn't"

"Not the point. That ginger drummer I said disappeared is. He's one suicidal motherfucker and he's got a bunch of money from a lawsuit last year and a self-hatred so deep it'd make Tommy look like a fucking munchkin"

"That's weird dude" Vince laughed again "Tommy and I met this guy kinda like that- really stupid haircut, and this really stupid accent. He was so fucked up I couldn't understand a thing he said except something about his bassist and a lawsuit and some guy named Nate. His name was weird too, it was P-" Nathan's cell rang and he snatched it up.

"What?" he asked Hamilton "Hurry up, I don't have many more minutes left"

"I, uh…. I don't know how to say this, dude"

"Just spit it out" Nathan growled lowly.

"Uh… Your grandmother, she -fuck- she… She died this morning."

"…oh" Nathan sucked in a deep breath. There was a long minute of silence. Vince waved his hand in his face, but he didn't see it.

"I'm so sorry Nathan"

"I… I…." he took another deep breath "Thanks for calling me, man. I'm… I gotta go" he hung up and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He sat for a long time, not really perceiving anything. He shook his head roughly, Vince coming into view.

"Dude, Nathan, what's up?" he asked.

"Well… uh…" he swallowed hard before reaching across the bar and downing Vince's untouched shot "Fuck, nothing. Get more drinks" he slammed the glass down. Soon there were three… six… eight…. twelve… however many empty glasses on the table.

"Heeeey man" Vince slurred "You still got that china-white?"

"Huh? Oh yeah" Nathan nodded.

"Well let's go out back and do it, I totally need it"

"Uhhh… okay" Nathan smiled and stumbled off his stool. They exited through the back way.

"Wait, wait. We should go, like, uh… we should go n' share with Tommy…"

"Uh, okay man" he halfway stumbled, halfway walked out to the street and they hailed a cab together. They chatted about where they'd been for the last couple of months, but mostly just laughed and drank the bottles of beer they'd kept for the road. Soon the cab slowed to a stop in front of a peaceful looking apartment complex in an off-to-the-side area of LA, there was hardly any traffic.

"Yep, well this is Tommy's new place" Vince threw his arms open wide, tripping up the stairs to get to the door. He slurred something quietly into the microphone, there was a loud BZZZZT and the gate-like screen door swung open. Nathan quietly followed Vince up a couple flights of stairs, occasionally running into the wall or tripping on some imaginary bump in the carpet.

Finally they reached the third floor and Vince abruptly stopped at Apt. 21. He knocked loudly and called out for Tommy. A skinny, pale kid around 19 answered the door clad in only jeans.

"Oh hey Vincent" he said, his voice oddly deep for someone so small "And Nathan! I thought you'd gone off the grid, man" he punched him in the arm.

"Naw… Jus'ta Flordia ta see family. Grandma was gonna die, but she's gone now so I'm here!" Nathan blabbered. Tommy cocked an eyebrow.

"Sorry for your loss. Anyway, come in you guys. My landlady doesn't like creepy dudes like you hanging around here at hours this late. OH! And I've got a buddy over here, so be nice, alright?"

"So where is this buddy?" Vince asked, looking around the empty apartment.

"In the bathroom, probably throwing up his guts. He's in way over his head" Tommy chuckled and scratched his head. Nathan couldn't help but see at a glance the track marks marring his arms and swallowed deeply.

"Cool. So Nate here doesn't do dope, but he got some classy shit from the east coast from Ben" Vince held out his hand. Nathan rolled his eyes and handed him the bag.

"Looks good enough" Tommy smirked "Hey Nate, while we set this up, could you go check on whatshisname in there?" he didn't wait for an answer before turning to help Vince with the 'setting up'. With a final roll of his eyes, and sobering fast in realization of what was happening- what he had enabled to happen- he made his way over to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Hey dude, Tommy wanted me to check up on you" he knocked again. When no answer came he opened the door to reveal a tiny room with cracked tile walls and floors, bugs, a flickering light, a yellowing t-

When you go into shock, very few things register, only the bare necessities for your instincts to tell you what to do. In this case, it was a shock of red hair that stood out painfully against the grey-yellow room, a disgusting sewer-y smell, and the image of a bloody needle sticking out of a pale, lightly freckled arm.

Nathan stood for a very long moment, his mouth hanging wide open. Unintelligible noises bubbled from his throat as he tried to say something- anything to indicate his mental state. Then Tommy's shout of "Hey Nathan, is he dead?" snapped him back. He noticed the man slumped against the toilet was staring at him in confusion, most likely thinking he was some sort of delusion.

"No, uh… Pickles is fine"

* * *

A/N

If you're an 'old' Metal fan, you prolly caught where the namesTommy and Vince came from :B  
And if you read stuff about the band members of this band you know that one of them was legally dead for a while... I should have just gone ahead and named the rest of the band Mick and Nikki XD  
What can I say, I'm a nerd.

Ummmm the amount of heroin research that went into my OCD writing style is enough to get me grounded and sent to therapy if dad looks through my history |D  
Did you know that white heroin/ china white is more common on the east coast than the west? The famous song by Gun's N Roses "Mr. Brownstone" is about heroin that is a dark brown color. They were from Los Angeles. Heroin comes in a powder and as far as I can tell you cook it in a spoon to liquefy it and inject it. Or you can go the traditional Chinese method of smoking it, or "Chase the Dragon". In my own words, I mean haha.  
And that isn't even half of it |D

ALSO: THE ENDING OMG WHAT HAPPENED HERE ?  
The great wait has ended~  
I'm super un-proud of this chapter it sucks.

Insanity over :B


	21. Chapter 21

"Alright then, tell him to come join the party" Tommy turned back to his gear, looking much like a child with a new, very expensive toy from the east coast.

"…Nate?" Pickles' voice was barely audible, even in the near-silence. Nathan didn't reply. He stood with his arms loosely at his sides, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. He hadn't actually thought of what he'd do when he found him. Pickles blinked slowly, watching Nathan as if he was on TV, not right in front of him. They stayed in the staring competition until Nathan couldn't take it anymore. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, always the big softie inside.

"Pickles" he bent down and yanked the needle ruthlessly out of his arm, tossing it to the side. He wrapped his arms forcefully around him, burying his head in Pickles' shoulder, forcing himself to stay there despite the heavy smell that lingered "I…" he choked up for a moment "I thought you were dead" he whispered.

Pickles was unresponsive, aside from pulling both his arms up and slinging them halfheartedly over Nathan's huge shoulders, almost as if in disbelief. They stayed there for slightly longer than a moment and Nathan pulled away. His eyes were tearless now and he glared sternly at Pickles.

"Maybe we aught to go home?" Nathan asked hesitantly. Pickles blinked a few times before barely nodding his head. Nathan started to walk towards the door before realizing that Pickles couldn't get up on his own. He forced himself to stay strong and bent down to pick him up and toss him over his shoulder. "You know" he grunted as he straightened up his back "One of these days I'm gonna get tired of carrying you out of bad situations in bathrooms. What is it with you and bathrooms, anyway?" he smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

But not even Nathan's secret dimples could cheer Pickles up right now. Nathan's smile faded into a frown as he stepped out of the dingy bathroom.

Vince and Tommy were way too far out of the room to notice Nathan and Pickles making their exit.

* * *

Steam rolled out from under the door of the apartment bathroom, filling the air with the thick scent of hotel shampoo. Nathan was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. He slowly massaged his forehead, wondering what he was supposed to be doing. When you have to wait so long for something when you finally get it, you have no idea what to do with it anymore. So he did the only thing he could think of.

"Hello?" Hamilton answered the phone.

"Magnus" Nathan was appalled at how broken his voice sounded.

"Nathan? What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

"… I found him"

"What?"

"I… I found Pickles. Magnus, I don't know what to do" his voice a frightened whisper. The other end of the line was silent.

"Where are you two now?" his voice was back to all business, save for a hint of urgency.

"We're here at the hotel room. He's in the shower…"

"Just stay there" Hamilton warned "I'll be back in a flash" he hung up. Nathan was left alone in the dark; the only sounds were his breath and the trickling of water from the bathroom. He stood and strode over to the bathroom door, slowly opening it.

"Are you okay in there?" he asked quietly. He wished his vocal cords didn't feel so tight. He didn't seem to be capable of raising his voice above a murmur.

"…Yeauh" Nathan barely heard Pickles speak.

"…Okay then" he started to retreat, but the water shutting off stopped him. Pickles stuck an arm out, searching for his towel. Nathan turned to hand it to him, and stopped when Pickles' hand touched his on the hand-off. He let go, feeling awkward for some reason, and finished his escape back into the bedroom. He returned to his seat on the bed, and was soon joined by a half-naked Pickles with a towel carelessly tossed on his head. Nathan gave him a once-over, taking in all the physical changes Pickles had undergone. His ribs were protruding out of his torso, his skin was pale and nearly grey, the bags under his eyes were frighteningly dark, there were many new scratches and scars running along his body, and his almost shoulder-length hair had started to form into what looked like dreadlocks.

"You gotta shirt?" he mumbled, shivering as goosebumps crawled up his arms and torso.

"Here" Nathan handed him one of his own shirts. Pickles took it wordlessly and pulled it on. It was at least four sizes too big, but he didn't say anything. He sat tenderly as far away from Nathan as possible on the bed.

"…Where's everyone else?" he asked after a while.

"Skwisgaar and Toki ran away, Murderface disappeared like you, and we're sitting in Magnus' hotel room"

"Magnus knows I'm here?" Pickles balked, tensing up even more (which Nathan thought was impossible).

"Uh-huh. He's on his way… and, uh, he knows about, uh…. Tony, too….justthoughtI'dmentionthat" Nathan eyed Pickles out of the corner of his eye sheepishly, clearing his throat. Pickles turned bright red, and on any other occasion, it would have been comical.

"YOU TOLD HIM?" he stood abruptly, fists clenched. Nathan swallowed hard, willing himself not to loose resolve.

"You have no right to be mad at me about anything. But no. I didn't fucking tell him, he pulled it out of me. And you know what" Nathan paused to pinch the bridge of his nose "I don't even fucking care if you hate me anymore because you… You're fucking garbage. You just run away like everyone's against you and get weepy over one person, when so many other people are worrying about you! I should have left you out there where you belong" his face was set into such a mess of fury that Pickles was speechless. "So you don't even have anything to fucking say to me?"

"…You gaht weepy over me" he said, a mere whisper "Ah'm jus' one person. And you left yer family down in Florida" this time Nathan was silent. He actually had a point.

"I guess I did…" he muttered. Pickles scooted closer.

"But I did kahinda overreact about everythin'… I guess" he mumbled, looking away "I… I'm sorry" his mouth twitched. Nathan smiled softly.

"This is all really ridiculous" he said.

"And sorta irahnic"

"Maybe a little" he smirked, but it quickly faded. Their heads snapped to the door as they heard the lock clock open. Hamilton was in the bedroom before the door had fallen completely shut, his arms around Pickles in a bone-crushing hug and his face buried in the top Pickles' hair.

"Fuckin' _asshole_" Hamilton growled.

* * *

A/N

Bawwww, Nathan you big ol' PUSSY *lovelovelove*  
But seriously him being a pussy right now is relevant to the plot, I swear. *does a scouts honor thing*


	22. Chapter 22

Pickles opened his eyes, wincing in the harsh light of day coming in from the huge window. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision. There was a dead weight on his side, his head was pounding, and he didn't know where he was… nothing unusual. He groaned loudly, reaching up to rub his head. His arm brushed something warm, definitely not sheets. He stopped, hand almost to his head. He registered warmth and a soft noise, like wind through trees, and there was something substantially _alive_ in the weight on his side.

"Nat'an?" his voice trailed off into silence and he cleared his throat quietly. Nathan had his arm draped over Pickles' lower torso, the weight enough to keep him down. His face was resting on the back of Pickles' neck, his breath ghosting into his ears.

"Mmmm?" Nathan seemed to have just woken up. Pickles turned his head to look Nathan in the face. Nathan blinked blearily, taking a second to recognize Pickles.

"Nate, get offa me" pickles tried to pull his arm off. Nathan smiled loftily.

"Sorry. Had to make sure you wouldn't run off again"

"Is dat so?" Pickles muttered, laying his head back down on the pillows, which smelled like an odd mixture of Nathan and Hamilton. He sighed contentedly. This was definitely the best place he'd woken up in a long time.

"Mornin fags" Hamilton snickered form the door. Both men in the bed hissed in disapproval. "No need to get pissy, I'm just kiddin. Now come get this breakfast I worked so hard to call room service for"

They both groaned and stretched, Nathan popping his back. The rumpled bed was left behind as they made their way into the other room for food.

* * *

Toki blinked his crusty eyes open and rubbed at them until he could see the familiar purple ceiling covered in star stickers. He smiled, finally getting used to feeling the warmth of another person in bed next to him. He yawned loudly, leaning over to kiss Courtney's head. She smiled and opened her eyes.

"Good morning, sweetie" she said. He smiled back.

"And god morgen til deg, kjære" he replied. He sat up, rescuing his numb arm from under her. She sat up as well, pulling on a bra and a shirt lethargically.

"We have to go to the store before we can eat breakfast this morning, okay?" she asked, stepping out into the living room.

"Ja. De foods-place" he nodded, assuring his comprehension. He tugged on a pair of pants and his sweatshirt before following her out into the living area. Her mother looked at him briefly before turning back to the crackling TV.

"We're going to the store, Mom" Courtney declared with a jingle of her keys. A grunt was her response. She rolled her eyes "C'mon Toki" she yawned briefly "Let's go"

* * *

"Cans I pushes de cart?" Toki asked, eyes lighting up as Courtney hassled with a cart in the cart-corral. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I swear, Toki. You can be just like a little kid sometimes" she finally managed to emancipate the cart, rolling it to Toki, who grabbed it and started off giddily.

"I's amsn't a kid" he rolled his eyes too "I ams almost sekventens" he stopped to say 'hi' back to the greeter in the doorway "Sekventens years ald amsnt kids"

"You _act_ like a kid" she repeated "Never said you _were_ one" she 'tsk'd and ruffled his hair "But I love ya anyway" she peered down at the list.

"Oh cans we haves dat one?" Toki ran off with the cart towards a particularly large crate of Fourth of July sparklers.

"No- Toki- Damn it!" she laughed despite herself, chasing after him.

* * *

"Okay Toki, we can't buy anymore" Courtney said slowly, making sure he understood. He nodded. "We already checked out, so don't grab anything, okay?" she held his face close, pronouncing each syllable. He nodded again fervently, eyes darting to the checkout woman, who was scanning things.

"What ams de beep, beepink?" he asked, obviously having forgotten anything Courtney had said.

"Checkout gun" Courtney grumbled, leaning on the cart. She let him ask the checkout woman the next million questions and closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. It could honestly be like running around after a four year old. But somehow she really liked him. How else would a planned one-night stand turn out to be a legitimate, living together for months, relationship?

"Courtney?" Toki waved a hand in front of her face "Times to go now" he pointed to the cart full of bags. She straightened her back with a sound _pop_ and smiled "Alright, let's go" she took the cart and pushed it out into the parking lot. Noticing Toki was gone after only a few steps, she turned around to look for him.

"Toki wher'd you g-" CRASH.

Toki wheeled around from his conversation with the greeter when he heard the noise "Courtney?" He looked around, panicking. There were two cars crunched into each other and a cart off to the side "Courtneeeey?" Toki wrinkled his brow, jogging over to the wreck. He peeked in the cars, only seeing a flustered middle-aged woman and then a really old man and a whole bunch of balloons coming out of the dashboards.

"Whats… happen?" Toki struggled to ask the woman in the front car, a minivan. She winced and gave him a weird look.

"Some girl with a cart just waked out right in front of me" she replied. Toki started to panic and tore himself away from the broken window.

"COURTNEY?" he called again, looking every which way…

"Toki?" every way but down. He kneeled, looking under the minivan.

"Courtney!" he exclaimed, grinning. The smile quickly faded as he realized what was going on. "Waits… Courtney ams you okay?" he asked, grabbing her hand. She shook her head. Toki heard sirens off in the distance, quickly getting closer. "Yous be okay, adambunlace is cominks" he grabbed both of her arms and pulled her as gently as possible out form under the car. She winced harshly.

"Toki stop, I'm not gonna be okay" she said softly. Toki looked confused and put her head in his lap.

"Don't says dat" he pleaded "Yous be fine" he assured her, petting all of the hair out of her face. She just smiled and closed her eyes. "Courtney?" Toki snapped back into reality, leaning down over her face. "Hey, wakes up!" he shook her shoulders "It's nots nap time!" he shouted, slowly getting more hysterical. "COURTNEY" he grabbed her face.

The sirens were extremely close now, and Toki heard the wheels screeching as they pulled up next to the doors in the fire-lane. Six paramedics sprinted out with three stretchers, two rushing over to where Toki was kneeling. "Hey kid, you need to let her go" one of them said. Toki swatted him off.

"Courtney" he lifted her upper half all the way up off the ground "Wakes up now, okay?" the paramedic took him by the shoulders and the other grabbed Courtney so she wouldn't fall. Toki clawed at the other mans hands, trying to pry them off his shoulders. "NO STOPS! Hun kan være død…" he was on the verge of sobbing, but let the paramedic take him away.

"It's okay kid, she'll be fine. Do you speak English?" the paramedic sat him down and leaned down so they were eye-to-eye.

"Ja…"

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"D-dere" he swallowed "So dere was dis real-cools greetinks man…"

* * *

A/N

Yes, I created an OC just to kill her off. Yes, this is a beginning to "everythinks I loves dies". Yes, I did want to cry while writing this, I'm not heartless. And YES, IsqueezedslashintothisI'msorrrrrrrrry.


	23. Chapter 23

...So, sorry for not updating in a long time. School, friends, other projects, no inspiration (doesn't come back until 2012, what BS). But ...enjoy I guess :D

* * *

Pickles, Hamilton, and Nathan were all sitting around the small table in Hamilton's hotel room silently, munching on the delicious food brought up by room service. The silence was near deafening, the only sound was Pickles' fork scraping through his eggs sporadically, though none of them were actually entering his mouth. It was one of the first mornings either Hamilton or Nathan had been up before 3 pm, having been out all night either searching for Pickles or doing whatever mobsters do. Finally Pickles' silverware dropped to his plate with a clang. Nathan and Hamilton looked up.

"How did you even find me?" he whispered. Nathan looked taken aback. Pickles had seemed plenty happy to be out of the filthy bathroom at the end of the previous night.

"It wasn't easy" Hamilton said placatingly, hoping the issue wouldn't evolve from there.

"It wasn't supposed ta be" Pickles snapped "I thought I had myself pretty much hidden"

"I found you through those two men you were 'partying' with last night. They're my bandmates, believe it or not. I would never have found you if I hadn't been buying what someone told me was your 'usual' four times a week down in Heroin Alley" Nathan said.

"…YOU bought heroin?" Pickles seemed genuinely amused by this, forgetting the serious situation at hand for a moment.

"Yeah, like a bajillion times. It doesn't make it any less seedy and disgusting. But that's how I found you"

"Who told you my 'usual'?" Pickles asked, his tone a lot more pleasant.

"Some guy you used to be close to… I had to beat the shit out of him, and he left town, but you won't miss him" Nathan and Hamilton shared a look of snide pleasure.

"Oh" Pickles nodded, seeming to have momentarily ducked out of the conversation. There was a few more minutes of silence before Pickles spoke again "So… Toki and Skwisgaahr are gahne?"

"Yeah, they left right after you did apparently" Hamilton replied. Pickles nodded.

"So d'ya know where dey are?" he asked.

"No, they're off the map. We don't even know if they're together anymore" Hamilton shrugged.

"Gahd… I hope Toki's alright" Pickles leaned his cheek on his fist and wrinkled his brow "he was jest a kid, afterall"

"Yeah well you were just a kid when you left home and you turned ou…." Nathan stopped talking and shoved a mouthful off eggs into his mouth "... Anyway" he acted like he hadn't said anything. Pickles glowered at him and shoved his plate forward.

* * *

"Kid… you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here" Courtney's mother stood in the front doorway of their small house, arms crossed, robe slipping off.

"B-buts…. I haves no home, and Courtney…" he started choking up. (as she kept insisting Toki call her – her name was not Ms. Courtney's Mom) sighed and rolled her tired eyes. She seemed to think for a moment before putting out her cigarette on the doorframe.

"Listen kid…. I'm sad about Courts too…. But I just can't have you here. I can get you a job and give you some of her stuff, but that's the best I can do" she coughed as she inhaled "How about you stay until after the funeral?"

"Okay" Toki sniffed "Tanks you Ms. Courtney's Moms" he wiped his nose.

"It's Mrs. Dun…. Whatever" she let him in and locked the door.

Another bleary morning downtown. Skwisgaar was awoken by a squad of police cars speeding by his window. "Fuckinks Hell" he groaned, running a hand over his face and pulling the covers sharply over to his side of the bed. He heard a gasp and a thud as the girl in his bed rolled off as he snuggled in. She stood up, stark naked, and glared at him.

"ASSHOLE" she crowed, throwing a pillow at his head. He ignored her and rolled over to face the other direction "This is what I get for sleeping with a guy I meet at a party! No respect for women, uhhg! Dana was right, I should have gone home with her! Look at me now- I don't know where I am- and I can't even…"

Skwisgaar tuned her out; using the pillow she'd thrown to cover his ears. He yawned loudly, trying to give her a hint. She huffed and continued gathering her clothes. Fifteen minutes passed and finally he heard his motel room door slam shut. He was just dozing off again when a sharp knock on his door made him roll slowly out of bed. He bent down to pull on some sort of covering before opening the door, wincing in the sunlight.

"Hey Sschwisgaar" Murderface forced himself into the small room, practically shoving Skwisgaar out of the way. Skwisgaar sighed, wishing with all his might that he hadn't said anything to Murderface when he'd seen him at that bar. "Watsh up buddy?" Murderface took up residence on Skwisgaar's bed, kicking off his shoes. Skwisgaar sneered.

"Oh…. Notinks" he muttered, shutting the door. Murderface leaned back, his greasy head all over Skwisgaar's pillows. Skwisgaar glared in disgust. Murderface sniffed.  
"….What'sh thish?" he sniffed again, trying to figure out what the smell was. Skiwgaar shot hima quick glance before sniffing under both his own arms. Daisy fresh.

"What ams you talkinks about?" Skiwsgaar snapped.

"I shmell a chick. Ish there a chick here?" he looked around, interest piqued.

"Justs be goinks" he gestured to the door.

"I don't want to 'Just be goingsh', Shkwishgaar!" Murderface growled.

"I means de goil. De goil ams just beeink gone"

"Shhe jusht left, then?" Murderface corrected him.

"Ja, whatevers. Why ams you be here?" he crossed his arms impatiently.

"Can't I jusht drop in on a buddy?" Murderface shrugged.

"Nej" Skwisgaar said solemnly.

"That'sh the shpirit!" Murderface whooped, getting up and throwing an arm around Skiwsgaar's shoulder. Skwisgaar's lip curled.

"I lefts de apark-en-ments to bes all bys my lone" Skwisgaar shoved the thick, hairy arm off of him. Murderface looked offended.

"You guysh all fuckin' left me! I came back and everyone was gone! Maybe I should jusht KILL MYSELF" he cried, pulling a pocketknife out of nowhere. Skwisgaar's eyes widened.

"Nos, nos, nos! Don'ts do dats!" he grabbed Murderface's thick wrist to stop the blade sailing towards his chest.

"WHY? No one would care if I died!" Murderface shouted. Skwisgaar rubbed his forehead and let go of Murderface.

"Moidaface, why yous tinks dat?" he asked calmly.

"JUSHT CUSHH!" he shouted.

"I cares. Happy nows?" Skwisgaar held his arms out as if he was about to bow.

"….Yesh. Happy…." Murderface said it slowly, then he looked suspiciously at Skwisgaar "You mean it?"

"Ja, ja. I means it. I's sorry we's be obandokin yous, don't be die" he said hurriedly.

"Thanksh" Murderface smiled soflty.

* * *

"Easy, Pickles" Nathan said soothingly, rubbing Pickles' back and brushing his disgustingly greasy hair out of his face. Pickles was hugging the toilet in the little bathroom like it was his only friend. His face was pale, he was shaking, he was violently sick.

"Oh Gahhhhd" he moaned, leaning his head against Nathan's leg and closing his eyes "What did I do ta deserve dis?"

"You took a shitload of drugs" Nathan replied bluntly, sitting down on the floor with Pickles. Pickles' head went to his shoulder now.

"I know theeeat" Pickles whined "No amount a' drugs ever is worth this, dood". Nathan chuckled humorlessly.

"We good in here?" Hamilton peeked in, his hand over the phone. Nathan nodded silently. Pickles jerked forward and heaved again. Hamilton shot him a look of sympathy. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, Francisco. I'm here" he continued into the phone, walking away.

"Fuckin' kill me" Pickles groaned. He spat into the toilet, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. Nathan sighed.

"If I killed you, it would defeat the propose of all my hard work. And believe me, I worked hard"

"You never did tell me wh-" he shot to the toilet again "Wh-what you did completely" Pickles said. Nathan had been avoiding the topic for about three days now.

"It doesn't matter now" he muttered, reaching over to feel Pickles' forehead. He was running a fever alright.

"" Pickles was muttering to himself as he shook. Nathan absent-mindedly stroked his hair. But it did little to help Pickles out. "I fucking hate the world" Pickles spat in time with a particularly violet jerk.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N:  
Hey guys :D It's been a while haha! I came back to so many sweet comments and lots of love, so lots of love right back at you! Enjoy the newest installment of Dethklok Didn't happen in a Day~

* * *

It was time. Toki was holding a small bag with his meager clothing selection, Deddy-Bear, and a few of his keepsakes from Courtney in it. He stood on the front stoop of Courtney's house, staring into her mother's face. The funeral had ended earlier that day, and Mrs. Duncan was not kidding about him leaving right afterwards. His eyes were still puffy and red from crying at the service.

"Th- thanks yous for havinks me be st-" he said. She slammed the door in his face. Toki sucked back his tears, trying his absolute hardest to be a grown up. He was out on his own entirely now. There was no safety net, no adults to keep him safe, and no one at all. There was no one. He was the dictionary definition of alone.

He took a deep, shaky breath. He forced himself to think of this as an adventure. He needed a good, fun adventure. The last time he'd had a fun adventure was when Skwisgaar had found him in Norway and taken him away from that God-awful place. A light, happy smile graced his lips as he began walking. He thought back to the first time he'd ever seen Skwisgaar.

_ "I'll take this one," a tall blonde up at the counter said. Their Norwegian was off. Toki's interest was piqued immediately; it wasn't often that you got foreigners in a town this small, even swedes. And the voice sounded familiar…He peered over cautiously from where he was, strumming an old acoustic in the corner. The woman's hips were cocked, an impatient stance. Her figure was certainly not baby material, she was extremely tall, taller than the man taking her money, she had no body fat whatsoever, her voice was very deep and rough for a woman, and her pale blonde hair was back in a short ponytail. Toki bet himself that her breasts would do nothing but starve a child, judging by her boney physique. But he hadn't caught sight of her face; she may have been very pretty, fit for a trophy wife for some rich old man._

_ When the woman received her purchase in a paper sack, she zipped up her jacket, flipped her scarf, and began to go outside. Toki shot up to help her. "I can help you with that if you'd like!" he said jovially._

_ "Why the hell would I need your help?" the "woman" snapped. Toki looked up at her…. his face. The features were extremely Swedish, but not overly male. But there was certainly an adam's apple. "Well?" the older boy insisted._

_ "I- err, sorry! I mistook you for someone else," Toki mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. The lanky teenager rolled his eyes and continued on walking, trying to pretend the little Norwegian didn't exist. "So, uh, what brings you to Norway?"_

_ "My band," the blonde said shortly._

_ "That's so cool! What band? I'm Toki, by the way. Toki Wartooth, I'm ten!" Toki held out his hand to shake. The blonde ignored it._

_ "It's nothing big yet- you wouldn't know of us. We're called Gangagar Eldeleel-Alele... And I'm Skwisgaar Skwigelf."_

_ "You're from Sweden, then?"_

_ "Yeah."_

_ "Cool! We don't get a lot of outsiders here, it's kind of a small place."_

_ "You live here?"_

_ "Yeah. Well, no. This is the main city, I live off in that direction," Toki pointed North, "I live in the woods."_

_ "Oh." Skiwsgaar nodded absently, looking a little annoyed._

_ "Yeah, it's a little lonely but I have my friends Deddy and Clown," Toki smiled cheerfully._

_ "Cool."_

_ "So where in Sweden? How old are you?"_

_ "Around Stockholm… I'm 16."_

_ "Wowwee! Neat-o, so a biggish city?"_

_ "I guess so."_

_ "Cool! I would love to live in a big city, nothing happens here. As I said, it's lonely. So what'd you get at the store, Skwisgaar?" Toki asked curiously._

_ "Listen, kid," Skwisgaar stopped in his tracks._

_ "Yeah?"_

_ "Stop fucking following me. You're a pest," he snapped. Toki frowned deeply._

_ "Oh. Okay," he muttered, starting back off in the other direction. He heard the ice crunch as Skwisgaar began walking again. Toki followed their prints in the snow back to the music store._

Toki smiled to himself as he remembered. He sighed and looked up into the sunny sky, getting lost in the clouds. He wished he could go back to Norway now, at least he could hide out in the music store like he used to.

* * *

Skwisgaar was lying flat on his back, staring numbly at the ceiling fan rotating slowly over his head. A small tremor wiggled its way down his body and goosebumps gripped him tightly. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to focus on nothing. That was starting to seem impossible, however, when his mind wandered back to the people he called 'friends'.

Images of their faces twisted and crawled in obscene ways around in front of his eyes. He shivered again, tossing onto his side and squeezing his eyes shut. He had never seen such ugly sights. Of course, they were only ugly because of how much he hated himself in this moment. He may have been abandoned by Pickles and Nathan, but Nathan at least had a valid excuse. Not that Skwisgaar cared to remember what that excuse was. Something about Louisiana or a cousin, he thought. He had abandoned Toki. Helpless kid. White noise filled his ears and vertigo hit him like a bulldozer. He resisted the urge to heave his breakfast up with all his might. Unsuccessful in his endeavor, he spewed half a bottle of vodka and a poptart all over the bed.

"You look fucking awful," Murderface observed from the doorway to Skwisgaar's bathroom. Suicide threats and an extensive booze budget had kept Murderface in Skwisgaar's hotel room lately. The only rules were that he slept on the couch if he spent the night and couldn't bring girls over….. or be over when Skwisgaar had girls. Skwisgaar's only reply was a feeble whine, barely audible. "….Shkwishgaar, are you okay?" Murderface cocked an eyebrow and wandered over.

Skwisgaar shook violently. He was cold. No, he was hot. He hated himself. Toki was alone, no one to care for him but Courtney who had probably gotten sick of his shit already. That is, if Toki had even taken his advice.

"_Well I don't plan on staying here for very long. As soon as this band is over, I'm going back to Sweden and staying there. Maybe start a new band, maybe not_"  
"_Will you take me with you_?"  
"_Well, Toki… by the time I return to Sweden, you'll be old enough to go out on your own_"  
"_Oh… okay then, I guess. How old do I have to be to be out on my own_?"  
"_18 in America_" Skwisgaar replied _"It's illegal otherwise_"

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Toki. Poor Toki. Another tremor burned through Skwisgaar.

"Shhkwishgaar? You're shweating, dude…. Shkwish? Shkiwshgaar?" Murdeface's hands felt like needles and hot coals and ice and puppies' tongues as they held his shoulders. His face looked like Saturn. The world bent around Skwisgaar as he reclosed his eyes, feeling more of the vodka-poptart combo leak weakly from his mouth, diluted by an unusual amount of drool.

He wondered vaguely if you would freeze to death in space as he burned up from the inside out, floating slowly into a Saturn that was yelling for him to wake up. Then he thought of Toki again. Toki could be Pluto. Skwisgaar desperately wished for his trip to take a detour to Pluto. His favorite planet was Pluto. It was small and reminded him of purple and blue and snow and Pluto couldn't speak English. However, Saturn with its ugly swirling whirlwind storms of 'sh' sounds and strong, rotten odor and many, many rings came ever closer and ever further as it bent time. The rings were from the phone. His hearing was good to be able to hear the phone. What use did Saturn have for dialing a phone? Emergency. Saturn had an emergency. Someone very small asked for him to stay on the line. Skwisgaar assumed it was Mars, the bossiest planet.

Skwisgaar himself was the sun, the star of the show. He was made of incandescent gases, long flowing tendrils reaching out into open air. Saturn reached to touch the sun's selfish face, but the sun shrieked without sound.

"Yous burn, Wilsiamms," Murderface barely made out the tiny, shaky mumble that bubbled up from Skwisgaar.

The sun could never be the star. The sun was far too self-involved to run the show. He felt himself imploding. He collapsed in on himself, feeling so so very small. So small and cold and weak. His light was going out.

"I's gone, I's gone," Skwisgaar moaned as Murderface kneeled in terror at his bedside.

"No! I don't know what he took- he jussht shtarted shhhaking and- and now he'sh mumbling and-"

Pluto ran to the small sun, suddenly happy and bright and not covered in ice and alone at the end of the solar system.

_"That'll be 9.6 kroner, young man," a store clerk said gruffly, snatching the money from Skwisgaar's hand. Black-painted fingers shook as he grabbed the sixpack. The doors swung open and he dashed out into the snow in his tanktop and ripped up jeans._

_"It's you!" a sprightly voice cawed from the other side of the street._

_"Me?" Skwisgaar peered through the heavy snowfall, trying to make out the figure. _

_"Skwisgaar!" the voice shouted and the figure sprinted across the street. A lanky, awkward preteen kid skidded to a halt in front of Skwisgaar. "What brings you back to Lillehammer after three years?"_

_"Oh. It's you, the little kid from my last visit…"_  
_ "You remembered!"_  
_ "You were the only interesting thing that happened to be honest… So how's your three years been?" Skwisgaar was in a good mood. And why shouldn't he be? His band had made it pretty big. He was nigh-on the best guitarist in Scandinavia and he was only nineteen. He was good looking, and had morning sex with about two good looking girls that very morning. _  
_ "They've… been," Toki shrugged. Skwisgaar let the topic slide. _  
_ "To answer your question, I'm here with my band. We're performing a show here tonight," Skiwsgaar smirked when Toki's eyes lit up._  
_ "You're still a rockstar? Woooowee! That's so cool!" he spazzed, grinning up at Skiwsgaar. Skwisgaar ate it up._  
_ "Yeah. We're a pretty big deal around here, unlike last time I was here. You might have heard of us, we're Fuckface Academy. We have a bassist from Finland, a singer from around where I'm from, and a Dutch drummer. I don't like our drummer, but he's talented so I try to cope with it," Skwisgaar chuckled._

_ "You're a lot friendlier this time," Toki remarked._  
_ "You're a lot older and less annoying. I'm less angsty than I was, too, and I didn't just get kicked out of my house," Skwisgaar smirked. Toki nodded._

_"Makes sense," he remarked. Skiwsgaar looked down to him curiously. He was cute kid, if Skwisgaar could say so himself. He'd grow up handsome, that much was sure. Skwisgaar wasn't sure why that mattered, but either way he invited the kid to go sit in his hotel room and drink a beer or two with him. Toki gladly agreed, practically bursting from excitement._  
_ When they got to the hotel room, Skwisgaar called out in Swedish, the decided shared language amongst the members. "Ohhh ho hooo, look at this little twerp," a dude twirling drum sticks hooted at Toki._  
_ "He's cool, Godfried, lay off," Skwisgaar snapped, tossing a pack of cigarettes Godfried's way._  
_ "He's cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute," one band member cooed, possibly serious. The man flounced over to Toki and petted down his crazy messy hair. "You are just adorable, you know that? How old are you, little one? What's your name?" the man had a slight lisp._

_ "I'm Toki, and I'm 13 years old…." Toki replied shyly. The feminine man shot Skwisgaar a sly look._  
_ "A little young, Skwis?"_  
_ "Shut up, Leif," Skwisgaar muttered. Toki may have misread the look Skwisgaar gave Leif as coy, and decided to ignore it when Leif slapped Skwisgaar's ass on the way by._  
_ "Come on, Toki, let's go back here," Skwisgaar lead Toki to the back room, a bedroom. A guitar case was propped against the bed. Skwisgaar offered Toki a beer. It was gladly accepted, as was the then offered invitation to sit on the bed. Skiwsgaar leaned against the headboard as Toki leaned against the footboard. Toki was fidgeting with the open mouth of his beer can, feeling lost and out of place. Skiwsgaar smiled to himself and pulled out his guitar from the case next to him._  
_ "It's pretty," Toki said, eyes growing in awe. Skwisgaar nodded with a smile as he lit a cigarette, waving the match out and tossing the stick before he dared touch his Explorer again._  
_ "She's my girl," Skwisgaar crooned, starting to play. Toki sat, enthralled, as Skiwsgaar played. Eventually the beer was gone, Toki had a joint in hand, and the melodies became more and more lost to the world, spiraling into a new realm._  
_ It was dark outside._  
_ "…My parents," Toki gasped. He looked more terrified than Skiwsgaar thought he had ever seen anyone look._

Definitely Pluto. And here came the asteroid belt, a million little things dressed the same, with a stretcher. But the sun couldn't fit on a stretcher. Until he could when they lifted him like he weighed nothing. The sun was shrinking. His light was fading. Skwisgaar thought of Pluto and how he would always be alone.

And space was dark without the sun.

* * *

A/N 2

Sooooo it's all about the Scandies, but I doubt I'll get complaints ;D


	25. Chapter 25

"Toki!"

"J-ja Mr. Jenninks?" Toki wheeled around, nearly shattering the glass he was drying. A tall, spindly man stood in the archway to the kitchen holding a phone to his chest.

"Calm down, kid. Phone's for you, someone named William…" Mr. Jennings barely finished speaking before the phone was snatched out of his hand.

"Willsiams?" Toki asked happily, practically vibrating form excitement.

"Heya kid. It took me forever to find you, I thought that maybe you died."

"Noes, noes, I's aliveses!" Toki practically shouted.

"Well that'sh good 'caush it looksh like Shkwishgaar might not be for long," Murderface replied blatantly. Toki took a moment to process what Murderface had just said.

"E… excoozes me?" he balked.

"Yeah, uh, that'sh what I'm calling about," he continued awkwardly. There was a moment of long silence over the line, Toki's breathing picking up pace. He thought he caught a siren blaring and someone speaking calmly over an intercom in the background of the call on Murderface's end.

"Sk… Skwisgaar ams dies?" he asked very quietly. A sigh was huffed from the other end.

"Nah, kid, he ishn't dead yet. Are you shtill in LA?"

"Ja, ja. You knows, you calldsed me!" Toki snapped angrily. His boss was staring at him in confusion and concern, waiting to take the phone back.

"Yeah… You're right. I shaw you coming outta there after hoursh one night," Muderface came clean sheepishly.

"Where ams you be to?" Toki asked urgently.

"Oh! Uh, well, we're at the hoshpital…"

"Hostipals? Tells me whats of dem!" he demanded, snatching the pad of paper out of the short-order cook's hands. Murderface gave Toki the address and said to hurry up and get there because he was tired of staring at the blonde fucker before hanging up. "Mr. Jenninkinses?" Toki stumbled over the name worse than normal as he handed back the phone.

"Yes, Toki?"

"Mine pal ams hostipals, where ams dis?" he showed Mr. Jenkins the slip of paper with the address hastily scribbled on it.

* * *

Hell was probably the only way to describe how Skiwsgaar felt as his eyes fluttered open and shut once. The millisecond of sunlight proved to be too much and he hissed. Startled at the pain and dryness of his throat, he choked and forced his eyes open. He hissed again at the light and began coughing, curling up on his side in pain.

"Gods…" he croaked as his violent hacking subsided. He opened his eyes once more slowly, carefully, letting his vision adjust fraction by fraction until he could keep them all the way open. His room reminded him vaguely of fashionable Swedish homes, all white with a single armchair in the corner. He furrowed his brow, trying to reign himself in enough to recognize where he was.

What the fuck had he done last night? His head pounded as he put a hand down on the mattress, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position. His boney wrist wobbled and he lessened the force he put on it.

"Who… ams?" he rasped, noticing for the first time that there was a figure lounging in the armchair. He finally managed to sit all the way up and rubbed his eyes, a clear cord full of liquid smacking him in the face. Upon further inspection, it turned out to be an IV. He repeated his question a little louder, trying to see the figure's face beyond the curtain of brown hair. That's when he saw it; a little bear tucked securely under the boy's arm. The boy's shoulders rose and fell rhythmically with his steady breathing. Toki was asleep. Skwisgaar sighed a long sigh and ran a shaking, pale hand over his face. What was Toki doing in his room?

"He's awake!" he heard someone call out. His head slowly turned to look to the door where a large black woman was standing, head turned to call out into the hallway. Her hideous outfit turned out to actually be scrubs, Skiwsgaar noticed. This must have been his nurse.

"Ja… I's feelink a… littles weird," Skwisgaar said, throat still dry and tongue feeling heavy.

"It's normal to be disoriented, baby," he winced at the nickname as the woman quipped to him before turning her head back out into the hallway. When she was satisfied that her information had been relayed, she started coming towards Skiwsgaar with a stethoscope and bloodpressure cuff. 'We're just gonna check your vitals, sugar," she assured him gently, "We wanna make sure there's nothing horribly wrong with you…" she trailed off as she attached the blood pressure cuff to his arm.

"T'anks you," he muttered. When she was done, he added, "Um… what ams he doink heres?" and pointed an unsteady finger to Toki, who shifted in the armchair like he knew he was being spoken of.

"Well, hun, when you OD'd, you had this real interesting guy with ya, but he said he had to be somewhere. He called up this kid and he hasn't left your side since."

"OD'ds?" he asked clumsily, sounding like he was trying to speak around marbles. The woman chuckled and shook her head.

"Where you from, sugar?"

"Sehweedens," he replied with a sigh.

"Ohh, Sweden, huh?" her eyebrows rose, "Well, Mr. Skwiggle, you did too many drugs, and drank too much vodka," her eyebrows now seemed to be raised in disapproval and Skwisgaar found himself looking away in shame as she ripped the Velcro apart and replaced the cuff with a soothing hand for a moment. She checked his heart rate and other random bits she deemed important. "Do I need to send a counselor in here?" she asked when she was done, standing by his bed with her hand son her hips.

"Counskelors?" he repeated slowly, "You means de brains doctors?"

"Yeah, that," she chuckled, "Your overdose seemed pretty purposeful."

"Nej," he replied softly, shaking his head.

"Well… alright, baby, but if you come in here again, we're requiring it," she fixed him with a serious gaze that made him tense up and left. He heaved a heavy sigh as she shut the door and massaged his forehead.

He really wished he had asked for water. He cleared his throat and slowly reclined back so he was horizontal again, eyes shutting with exhaustion. He coughed drily and pulled the blankets up.

Suddenly there was a hand pressing the top of his gently. He grumbled in irritation and forced his eyes to crack open, nearly panting with the effort it took. Brown hair tickled his face and he blew it away irately.

"Whats?" he snapped, focusing his gaze into the grey eyes looming over him.

"Yous mouth spells bad," Toki whispered. Skwisgaar noticed the glass of water in his hand and eyed it hungrily. Toki helped him into a sitting position and handed the cup to him. Skwisgaar drank it so quickly that rivulets came down his chin, depriving him of nearly a quarter of the liquid. He finished it off with a breath of satisfaction, eyes shutting briefly.

"Tanks yous, Tokis."

"Ja, ams notinks reallies…" Toki shuffled away from the bed and sat back in the armchair sullenly. They were both quiet for a stretch of time, refusing to meet each others' eyes.

"Whys you leaves mes?" Toki's voice came out broken and tearful, muffled by the stuffed bear he had pressed to his face.

"I tolds yous," Skiwsgaar replied coldly, scooting back to lean against the pillows, "You ams a lots to deals wit."

"_I didn't mean to be a burden_!" Toki's voice caught as he switched to his native tongue and tears threatened to spill over his cheeks. Skwisgaar looked away and out the window. "_You're the one who took me away from that place! I didn't ask you to_!" he was on the verge of shouting now, tears streaming freely out from behind his shut lids.

"I knows, Tokis," Skwisgaar whispered more to himself than to Toki.

* * *

_ "Where have you been?!" Skiwsgaar exclaimed, running up to Toki. The kid was with two other people today, but Skiwsgaar paid them no mind as he turned Toki around sharply with a hand on his shoulder._

_ The two others turned slowly to stare at the lanky blonde before them. Their cold gazed were enough to shake Skiwsgaar's hand from Toki's shoulder. He took a step back, gulping. The woman turned her head slowly to penetrate Toki with that icy stare._

_ Toki began visibly shaking. "He… Hello," he said awkwardly, looking at his feet._

_ "You've been missing for days!" Skwisgaar exclaimed, trying to ignore the two adults by their sides, "You ran out on me the other night looking all freaked and I've been worried! You didn't even come to our show!"_

_ "You… You worried?" Toki looked up hopefully. His grin began to grown until he remembered the adults. His grin went flat and he shrank away from Skiwsgaar. Skwisgaar cocked his head slightly, reaching up to brush a piece of hair that had been tousled by the wind behind his ear._

_ "Are you… okay, kid?" he asked skeptically, eyes flickering from his new friend to the creepy, robe-wearing adults. Their faces were weathered and strange, carrying something inhuman and deeply disturbing. Skwisgaar considered the possibility of them being Toki's parents, but dismissed it. There was no way two people so creepy had produced such a cute, handsome child._

_ "Jaaa…" Toki said uneasily, "I am on my way to church though, so I'll, uh, see you, okay?" he turned and let the adults begin walking before he followed._

_Later that evening, Skiwsgaar saw him again. He approached slowly, Toki was walking out of the grocery store, and he didn't want to have to confront those creepy people again. When he deemed Toki to be alone, he began walking more purposefully._

_ "Toki!" he called. Toki jumped and nearly dropped the paper bag full of groceries in his arms._

_ "Hey!" he was greeted with a smile this time._

_ "What was up this morning?" he cut right to the chase._

_ "I uh… I have to get these home," Toki said hurriedly, beginning the trek down the dirt road into the woods._

_ "No problem," Skiwsgaar snatched the bag from him, having momentary difficulty finding purchase with gloves on his hands. Toki did nothing to stop him. "How are you out here in nothing but a t-shirt anyway?" Skiwsgaar decided to start small._

_ "I don't have a coat," Toki replied. Skiwsgaar stopped dead in his tracks._

_ "You're joking."_

_ "…No… I'm not…" Toki cocked an eyebrow. Skiwsgaar rolled his eyes as a particularly chilly gust of wind nearly blew them over and Toki shivered._

_ "Here," Skiwsgaar shoved the groceries back into Toki's hands and began to unravel his scarf. He draped it over the crook of his arm and unzipped his beat up leather jacket with clumsy, cloth-covered fingers. Under his jacket was a soft, grey, cashmere-looking sweater. He re-wrapped the scarf around his neck, replacing it with the jacket over his arm. He grabbed back the groceries when he was done and shoved the jacket into Toki's arms._

_ "…" Toki gave him an incredulous look and Skwisgaar rolled his eyes again._

_ "Wear it, dumbass. It used to be Leif's, but uh… I dunno," he shrugged. Toki gratefully pulled the clothing on and relished the immediate relief from the wind._

_ "Thanks so much, Skiwsgaar," he gushed, stuffing his hands in the pockets and sighing happily._

_ "It's whatever… So about this morning," he pushed Toki to continue talking as they began meandering back down the path._

_ "Oh! Uh… they're my parents."_

_ "You're joking."_

_ "Why do you keep thinking I'm joking?" Toki glowered at the Swede angrily. Skiwsgaar shrugged and chuckled. "Anyway…" Toki continued, "They don't really like me talking to anyone that doesn't go to our church."_

_ "What, why?" Skwisgaar shot Toki a glance before returning his attention to the now snow-covered path. He was thankful for his combat boots and noticed Toki was in ratty sneakers. His brow creased as Toki spoke up._

_ "Well, they're really strict. I have a lot of chores and stuff, and well, you know… stray too far, and you go to… well, you know," Toki bit his lip and looked down at his feet._

_ "I don't," Skiwsgaar said._

_ "Hell," Toki whispered, shooting furtive looks around them. Skwisgaar laughed a little, immediately regretting it when he was fixed with a bewildered sort of scowl._

_ "I don't believe in that shit. Religion is a waste of time. I sort of follow the whole Norse gods scene, but really, who does that anymore? I guess it's just because I like the idea of Valhalla," Skiwgaar made no mention of his journey nine years ago that brought him the guitar currently strapped to his back._

_ "Don't say that!" Toki clamped an icy hand over Skiwsgaar's mouth, nearly toppling them both over into the snow with the force of it. Skiwsgaar scoffed and slapped his hand away._

_ "Or what? I'll go to hell?" he mocked. Toki sucked in a breath._

_ "Yes!" he shouted. He violently pulled the jacket off and seized the groceries from Skiwsgaar. He whipped the jacket at the blonde's face, turned on his heel, and stomped away through the snow drifts. Skiwsgaar made a half-attempt to keep up with him for a minute, uttering half-felt apologies and pleas for him to slow down before giving up and throwing his arms in the air. He grumbled some choice words as he slid back on Leif's jacket and drug his boots through the quickly deepening snow back to his temporary home._

* * *

"Tokis…?"

"Ja?"

"I's sorries dats I leaveds you, I, uh…" Skwisgaar looked away nervously staring at the whitewashed wall on the other side of the room.

"Yous what?" Toki urged, still managing to look a little pissed even though he knew Toki would always forgive him. It was in the kid's nature.

* * *

_ He slammed the front door and knocked off his boots on the motel rug, shivering as his face flushed with the sudden warmth of the room. _

_ "Hey," it was Leif, lounging on the bed._

_ "Hey," he replied, toeing out of his boots and socks and rolling up his pant legs. He stuck his scarf on the table by the door and peeled off the jacket, tossing it aside. A sly smile curved its way across Leif's pale mouth._

_ "I like when you wear that jacket."_

_ "I know you do," Skiwsgaar sighed and flopped back on the bed Leif was sprawled across. He shut his eyes and sighed deeply. He grunted when he felt a weight roll over onto him; crossed arms pressing into his sternum and a chin resting on his chest. He opened his eyes only to be met by Leif's sharp, nearly black eyes._

_ "What's up, babe?" Leif sighed, sweet whiskey breath cascading over Skiwsgaar's face. He rubbed his cheek on Skiwsgaar's chest, enjoying the soft material of the sweater.  
_

_ "Don't call me that, and get off," Skwisgaar grumbled, not making any move to force the issue. Leif sighed and closed his eyes, perfectly content to stay laying on Skwisgaar._

_ "Is it that kid? Did you find him?" he asked. Skwisgaar nodded, letting his eyes droop shut again. He yawned and ran a hand over his face before letting it settle on Leif's waist._

_ "Aw, c'mon!" a cry of despair came from the door. Two men stood there awkwardly, the speaker shielding his eyes._

_ "Relax, Silv, we're just laying here!" Leif snapped._

_ "Looks like gay stuff," Silvijn, the bassist, replied with a sneer._

_ "It is," Skiwsgaar replied gruffly, doing a half-sit up to place a very un-heartfelt kiss on Leif's lips. Noticing Silvijn's obvious discomfort, he went ahead and bit at Leif's lips, tugging at the piercing on the left side. Leif just started giggling and rolled off Skiwsgaar to take the brown paper bag filled with booze out of Godfried's hands._

_ "You guys are sick," Silvijn grumbled, turning red and huffing a sigh as he collapsed into an armchair. The little hotel kitchenette was filled with the sound of restocking the fridge. "You're not even exclusive or anything!"_

_ "I like tits, too," Skiwsgaar shrugged, rolling onto his side so he could face Silvijn, "and girls have started paying attention to us now that we're kinda big."_

_ "You think we'd go exclusive with that opportunity?" Leif scoffed from the kitchen._

_ "What should we do for dinner?"_

_ "I don't know, maybe pasta?"_

_ "Toki!" Skwisgaar realized he was running and slowed down. Leif was with him and the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of his singer. Sure enough, a finely groomed eyebrow was hitched up and Leif managed to catch up to Skiwsgaar. _

"_Skwis, come on, we have a sound check to get to!" he whined, tugging on the hem of Skiwsgaar's sweater._

_ "Just give me a minute, I'll catch up," he shooed Leif away impatiently and walked quickly towards the little huddle outside the music shop. He sighed, seeing the kid shivering, and began stripping out of his jacket. It wasn't half as cold as the previous night, but Toki was in some ratty jeans and a t-shirt. He draped the jacket over the shivering, narrow shoulders. Toki's head popped up and he stared in wide-eyed surprise at Skiwsgaar towering above him._

_ "Skiwsgaar," he said casually, not making any attempt to wriggle his arms into the sleeves._

_ "Toki," Skiwsgaar sighed and crouched down, "For the love of Odin, I have no idea why I care about what goes on in your life, but…" he shook his head and sighed, "If you don't want me to pry, I won't okay?" he smiled gently and Toki grinned back._

_ "You're the best!"_

_ "Yeah, yeah, I know," Skiwsgaar chuckled, standing up and putting a hand out to help Toki up.  
_

* * *

"You's de big brothers I coulds wanted somes," Toki sniffled, wiping his eyes on his forearm, "_You told me you cared about me_!"

"_I told you that I didn't know why_."

"_That was six years ago! I figured you would have found the reason by now_," Toki snapped.

"Sorries to busts it to yous," Skiwsgaar sighed.

* * *

A/N:

UMMMMM... So hey you guys! Almost a year you say, what?  
It's all about Skiwsgaar and Toki you say? WHAT ABOUT PICKLES you say?

Well I started my senior year of high school and with the new season promising to be full of past-y stuff, I didn't want to continue to far and have to fix the plot to fir the season more than I had to. It already kinda crushed my plan but I think I have it worked out, so I guess expect some updates now?


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